


Loki, Child Prince of Asgard

by DeathScribe



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, Family Drama, Family Secrets, Friendship, Gen, It's kid Loki set during Thor 1 simple as that, Kid Loki (Marvel), Magic, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Politics, dark secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-08-23 05:14:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 60,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16612595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathScribe/pseuds/DeathScribe
Summary: Thor AU. The historic Coronation of Crown Prince Thor draws near, much to the delight of the people. However Loki, born the much younger Prince of Asgard cannot help but worry for his Brother. And worry he should, with plots, family secrets and betrayal, the Child Prince of Asgard will have much to overcome if he plans to ever see his family safe and whole.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Guys! So a new story that is not a crossover! Makes a change for me. Anyway welcome to this new fic. I have a real soft spot for kid Loki or deaged Loki, but I can hardly find any of them around with a decent length, if anyone knows any let me know. But I thought, you know what why don't I give it a go myself, so here we are. 
> 
> This is also posted on Fanfiction and will be updated weekly on both if all goes well. 
> 
> Thanks for giving this a go and I hope you enjoy the story.
> 
> Cheers! D.S x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S This chapter has been edited, trying my best to pick up on spelling mistakes and grammar. Thank you to everyone who has been pointing them out to me, if you see any more let me know. XX

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 1 **

“Young Prince it is time for you to greet the day.” An elderly man walked into the large bedroom, swiftly crossing to the curtains, throwing them wide to reveal the large window. Light streamed into the once comforting dark space, brightening up the walls that were crammed high with books and papers. Most of the papers were covered with indecipherable squiggles that made the older man’s head ache just looking at them. The books weren’t any better, a pile was open on the small desk, where a candle had been burned down to a snub so that it was no longer usable. He caught a glimpse of one of the open pages, theories on spell work and incantations, it completely eclipsed the elders understanding. A few neglected weapons were mounted on the walls and a rug was laid out before a fire place that was dark and cold. The man turned from his perusal to the bed where his Young Prince had buried himself even further under the blankets. “Young Prince.”

“I don’t want to get up,” the cracked voice of his charge came out muffled beneath the covers he had piled on top of himself. “Leave me alone Alviss.”

“You know I cannot do that.” A grunt came, then a small pale hand emerged from the blankets, waving at the curtains and muttering softly. Instantly the fabrics yanked themselves back shut, encompassing the room back into the soothing gloom.

“Prince Loki,” Alviss scolded, already having expected the reaction and moving back to the curtains to reopen them. “Is this any way for a Prince to behave?”

“A tired Prince,” was the retort, along with a hiss as the light came back into the room. “Alviss.” The elder couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the whine. He came to the bed, thankful that the Young Prince hadn’t felt the need to pull his bed curtains just to be contrary. Grabbing a handful of the blankets he pulled them away, revealing the curled-up figure of a boy, head tucked into a pillow.

“Your Mother, the Queen, is expecting you at breakfast. You know how important it is to be on time, especially today.” The boy groaned, finally extracting himself from the pillow to rub at his eyes. He looked no older than an eleven-year-old Midgardian, with a face that still held a trace of baby fat, though was starting to fill out now that the child’s weapons training had begun in earnest. Raven black hair fell into startling green eyes. Alviss always found the Young Prince’s eyes one of the most striking things about him and the most dangerous, especially if they were aimed in a glare at you. Much like now.

“Fine, I’m up.”

“Thank goodness,” Alviss teased good-naturedly, though it earnt him a scowl. “If you would like to freshen up Prince Loki, the bath has been drawn for you and your attire set out.”

“Did the helmet come?” Loki asked, sliding off the bed to get to his feet. He was a slight child, with lean limbs that would turn long when he finally hit a growth spurt. Unfortunately, that was yet to happen so the Young Prince only came to Alviss’s elbow and he was consider on the shorter side for an Asgardian.

“Indeed, it has Young Prince,” the elderly servant smiled at the youngster’s grin, a skip coming into his step as he made his way to the bathroom, stripping off his sleep shirt along the way. “You’ll not be able to wear it until the ceremony though.”

“Not even to try it on?” the child asked cheekily. Alviss laughed.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to squeeze that in.” He escorted his charge to the bath. A large metal tub sat in the middle of a marble stone room filled with steam. After checking that the towels were all in place Alviss bowed. “I’ll leave you to prepare Young Prince.” A hand wave was given as dismissal and the old servant retreated.

Loki sighed as the Steward left. Alviss always made sure to bring up the threat of his Mother if he wanted him to do anything and avoid an argument. Not that the old servant couldn't hold his own, he was well able to handle Loki and wasn’t afraid to tell his Young Prince exactly what he thought. Shaking his head, Loki stepped into the bathtub and began his morning rituals. He was glad he was finally of an age that he could do this by himself, not that the bathing maids were rough, but it had become rather distracting when they towelled him dry. After he had finished with the cleaning and washing of his hair, Loki took a moment to ease back and just enjoy. The steam made the bathroom warmer, but it was better for keeping common ailments away. Eir, the head healer of the Palace made sure to impress that upon a younger Loki, who had gone through a period when he refused to have a bath at all. Smiling a little at the old memories, Loki allowed himself to be lost in them, enjoying the alone time, though it did not last.

“Young Prince,” the boy startled at the feminine voice coming from the bathroom entrance, sloshing some water over the side in his haste to sit up.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Young Prince, but Alviss insists on heading down to breakfast soon.”

“Yes, I’m sure he did,” Loki muttered. “I’ll dry off how. Thank you.” After the maid shut the door, Loki levered himself out of the tub, dripping water on the pleasantly warm stone, he grabbed a towel and started drying off. Once done, he tossed it and pulled down a soft long shirt and underclothes. With his dark hair swept off his brow, Loki exited the bathroom, walking through his sleeping chamber and into one of the three adjoining rooms.

“Ah, Prince Loki, I was beginning to worry,” Alviss said from his usual place beside the changing podium.

“I’m here now,” Loki said, not quite able to hide his pout, much to the amusement of the seamstress who was stifling her giggles behind her hand.

“Very good, Young Prince, but if I may, it would be prudent that we have you dressed. We wouldn’t want your Mother to worry.” Biting back a growl Loki stomped to the podium, standing with his arms outstretched in the practised position, ready for the seamstress to behind her work.

“Did we have to have the final fitting right before breakfast?” Loki asked as the first layer of the ceremonial amour his Father had had commissioned was slipped over his head.

“You know there will not be time for this later. The household will be preparing for the ceremony,” Alviss clicked his tongue, pulling free a long piece of parchment which he studied intently.

“Even you?”

“Aye.”

“But you're my Steward.”

“I am the Steward of the House of Odin,” Alviss corrected, slipping the parchment away. “That your Mother believes that I am best for you to begin your training to run a household, well, I pity your Valet.” Loki scowled, wincing as the next layer was dropped over his head.

“Why do I need one, I have you,” Loki muttered as the seamstress moved to reach for some breaches.

“I won’t be able to be your Valet, even though I have taken that role on for now.”

“Why not?” Loki asked as he stepped into the beaches and they were pulled up by the seamstress who deftly tied them with a leather belt.

“I have other responsibilities, such as the smooth running of the House of Odin.”

“Father could replace you.” Alviss chuckled.

“I’m not sure the King would see things the same way as you. Besides, Valets are usually a similar age to their Masters, they become companions.”

“Companions,” Loki frowned, thinking over the words. He didn’t really have any of those. Not many other nobles had children his age, most having had their children before the Thousand-Year War. Loki was born one hundred and ninety-nine years after that when most of the men didn’t come home. It was a sad generation to be born into. Not like his Brother’s.

“Indeed, Young Prince, I’m sure you won’t want this old man to be your companion, why I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you.” Loki couldn’t help but giggle, causing the seamstress to coo slightly. The rest of the fitting went by quickly, so Loki soon had a cape fixed to his shoulders and Alviss was handing him a bronze horned crown.

“It was supposed to be a helmet,” Loki pouted, eyeing the head gear with disgust.

“The smiths thought a helmet would be to heavy for you carry. The All-father approved of the new design,” Alviss said even as Loki’s lip curled. “Are you going to try it on? If not, we can save it until the ceremony.”

“Of course, I am,” Loki spoke quickly, thrusting the crown onto his head so hard it rumpled his hair, sending the horns cockeyed.

“Oh, my Prince, let me help you,” the seamstress easily inserted herself at Loki’s side, taking off the crown. She fixed his hair, then gently placed it back onto his head, so it rested on his brow. “There,” she declared, stepping aside to pull a mirror before the boy.

“What do you think, Young Prince?” Alviss asked. Loki said nothing, too busy staring at himself. He was loath to admit it, but the crown looked good. It wasn’t ungainly or over the top, a fine first head piece for a Young Prince. The soft underclothes were covered with leather trousers and a vest stained a deep green colour, just as Loki wanted. Bronze vambraces sat on his forearms, tastefully decorated with the emblem of the House of Odin, three interlocking triangles, the Valknut. It was also placed on the left side of the breast plate that was strapped to Loki’s chest. Showing for all to see whose household he was part of.

Loki twisted left and right, so the soft green cape billowed out behind him, he smiled a little.

“It will do,” he said, though the seamstress still giggled and Alviss chuckled.

“Very good, Young Prince. Now I’m afraid we must be moving on.” The seamstress plucked the crown from Loki’s head, as well as unfastened the cape, before disappearing. Alviss ushered Loki from the podium, out of the room and into the corridors of the House of Odin’s family quarters. There were very few servants roaming the halls, all busy in the Palace proper with preparations. Alviss led Loki into the communal areas of the quarters and to the breakfast room where his Mother waited. “Queen Frigga,” Alviss said, subtly announcing their arrival. Queen Frigga, the All-Mother was sat to the left of the chair at the head of a small wooden table. Several foods had been laid out, bowls of fruit and a few cut meats, along with steaming porridge. She looked radiant, with golden hair done in intricate braids that held it high on her head ready for her ceremonial crown. Her gown was golden yellow, fitting her figure perfectly with a high neck set with pearls. There were two discreet clips that would hold the long cape that would adorn her shoulders, but for now the Queen had no use of it.

“Alviss,” Frigga smiled at the old Steward, but her gaze quickly fell to the boy and her eyes widened. “Loki?”

“Morning Mother,” the raven-haired child chirped, standing awkwardly as his Mother appraised him.

“Come closer my son.” Loki shuffled forward, suddenly self-conscious when under the scrutiny of his Mother. Once in touching distance she reached out and ran a hand through his hair, pulling some of the strands that had fallen into his face out of the way. Fingers softly touched his armour, tracing the designs as Frigga took in her son. “I almost wondered who the handsome young man was that came to greet me for breakfast. You look so grown up.” Loki blushed at the words, turning his head away.

“Mother,” he whined, to which Frigga laughed. She nodded to Alviss who swiftly retreated leaving the two members of the Royal family alone.

“Take a seat dear, though do be careful, you don’t want to get porridge on your amour.”

“Yes Mother,” Loki said dutifully. Dashing to a seat on the right, he sat down and began spooning up some porridge in to a bowl, sprinkling it with fruit. “Will Father and Thor be joining us?”

“Possibly, though both have a great deal of duties to attend to this day.”

Loki pouted, he hardly got to see his Brother or Father. Odin was the King, and as his Mother was so fond of telling him, a King had a duty to his subjects. He needed to be at the endless Council meetings, talking to petitioners or delegates from other Realms. Though Loki wished that his Father could spend at least some time with him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been called by his Father, just to be yelled at for some mischief he caused in his lessons. The Young Prince felt pathetic that he had to stoop to such lows just to see his own Father.

And as for Thor, they had been inseparable when Loki had been young. Of course, his Brother was much older than him, considerably passed his first millennium and well into what was considered manhood, by both Asgardian and Midgardian standards. Loki had hoped that as he himself had grown he would be able to join in with the games he had seen his Brother and his friends play. That sadly had not come to pass. Thor, once given the mighty hammer Mjolnir, had turned his attentions to adventuring. Sometimes disappearing for weeks, only returning when he and his friends, now named the Warriors Three and the fierce Lady Sif, had slaughtered a fearsome beast. At first Loki had been excited, Thor brought back many trinkets and treasures for him to awe over. But as Loki reached eight hundred Thor had changed. Not even wanting to help his younger sibling with his weapons training, when not so long ago the elder had been reprimanded when he had given Loki a small sword to play with.

“Yes Mother” the resignation must have been detectable in his tone as Frigga smiled reassuringly at him.

“Do not despair, Loki. I’m sure you will see Thor and your Father later. And when all the commotion of the coronation has calmed down, I am positive you will see more of them.” Loki doubted his Mother’s opinion, but he wasn’t willing to give up on the small sliver of hope she offered.

Grinning he said, “maybe we’ll be able to go to another Realm for a trip, now that Thor will be on the throne.”

“And see the tantrum he will throw that we are going without him?” Frigga raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure the farmers might appreciate the extra rain.” Loki giggled, Frigga joining him and together they enjoyed a light breakfast.

Once he polished off a second bowl of porridge, followed by a goblet full of juice, Loki jumped down from his seat.

“And where are you going, young man?” Frigga asked.

“To find Thor.”

“You’ll be sure not to bother him to much,” Frigga said, sending Loki a stern look when her dark-haired child smiled. “Loki.”

“I just want to see him before the ceremony.” Frigga raised a disbelieving eyebrow but didn’t contradict him.

“Just don’t cause any mischief,” she shook her head at Loki’s over eager nod, before he dashed out of the room. “And mind your clothes.”

Loki bolted down the corridors, his pace hindered by the heavy leathers and armour. As he excited the Royal quarters, the lack of servants became a thing of the past. Maids scurried about, with linens and wash clothes, set to their chores to ensure the Royal Palace was ready for the event of the millennium. Valets and lady’s maids of the various visiting nobles flittered through the unfamiliar surroundings, gathering the necessary materials to see to their Master’s and Mistresses needs.

Loki slipped through them all easily. Well used to the hustle and bustle of the ever-busy Royal Palace. Most of the foreign staff gave him strange looks, not used to seeing one of his station, though the normal Palace staff smiled and even offered some waves as the Prince rushed by. Finally, he came upon what he sort. The training yard of the Royal Palace was regularly used for the up keep of the Palace guards, though the Einherjar, fierce warriors whose soul task was to protect the Royal family, did use it from time to time. But it was also a place of learning, where the noble’s children could be taught by the best warriors Asgard had to offer. In so far it had become a common gathering ground for the young bucks, and Loki was not surprised to find his Brother, hammer in hand, in battle with the Lady Sif.

Taking a moment to gather himself, Loki kept to the back of the crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle. Sif and Thor were circling each other. The Lady’s long sword held with practised ease, while Thor gripped Mjolnir, a vicious grin on his face. Suddenly Sif darted forward, so fast that she ducked under Thor’s swing to aim for his vulnerable chest. Luckily Thor shifted to the side, though it cost him a rip to his leathers. He rebounded quickly, with a roar he swung, letting Mjolnir fly. Sif tried to dodge, but though Thor was built like the largest of Berserkers he was fast. His blow caught Sif’s shoulder, sending her stumbling. Quickly Thor followed up with a kick, taking her down further, looming above her with Mjolnir high.

“Do you yield?” he bellowed, much to the enjoyment of the crowd. Sif scowled, face a deep red colour. She nodded, and the furious warrior Thor had been a moment ago vanished, the almost feral snarl on his lips replaced by a large grin and a hand outstretched to help the female warrior to her feet.

“If you didn’t have that blasted hammer,” Sif moaned, to which Thor laughed.

“I still would have beaten you. Your speed is commendable Sif, but when put against brute strength, well it is an easy conquest.”

Sif growled, and Loki chose that time to head further in, though it seemed the rest of the gathered youth had the same idea. Soon an impenetrable wall of bodies blocked Loki from his Brother. Scowling, Loki tried to squeeze through, but he was easily shoved back, most uncaring that it was their Young Prince they pushed aside, too busy trying to get closer to Thor. Scowl morphing into a glare, Loki reached for his ever growing Seidr. With an intricate wave of his hand and some muttered words, snakes were suddenly conjured to life in the thick of the crowd. Loki ducked aside as the first yelp erupted from the mass, followed by the trampling of feet as the young warriors hurried away from the hissing menaces. Loki smirked at the chaos, his Mother would disapprove of this use of Seidr, but he couldn’t help but feel a little vindicated, after all, they should not have ignored him.

“Get the foul beasts!” he heard Thor’s distinctive cry. Pushing his glee away he rushed forward, dismissing the spell.

“Thor,” the Young Prince shouted, not able to hold in his cackle as his Elder Brother swung at a snake only for it to disappear. Thor’s head snapped up, to be faced with the laughing visage of his Little Brother.

“Loki!” he yelled, dropping Mjolnir as he stamped over to the child, snatching him up by the back of his clothing to lift him off his feet. “That was not funny.” Loki shook his head and laughed some more. “Stop it!”

“I cannot help it Brother, your face was just such a picture.”

“I’ll make your face a picture one day,” Thor growled, though most of the harshness had left his tone and his lips were twitching. That was one of the things Loki loved best about his Brother. His temper would flare, big and bold, much like the lightning he could summon. But after it had hit all was as bright as the sky after a summer rainstorm. Thor let Loki go, so he could land on his feet, calling Mjolnir back to his hand. Now that the truth had been revealed the young warriors that had once been so jubilant had begun to grumble.

“It was a trick?”

“That little brat.”

“Why does the Young Prince always have to ruin everything with his tricks.” Loki's smile dimmed at the comments. Yes, he could understand why the warriors might be mad, he did do it on purpose. But they never seemed to find amusement in his pranks and that was all they were, just a bit of fun.

“What are you even doing here, Loki?” Thor asked as the warriors started to leave. “I thought you would be with Mother.”

“I wanted to see you before the ceremony.”

“Why?” Loki pouted at Thor’s obliviousness, puffing his chest out a little in hopes that it would help.

“Do you notice anything different?” his question was met by a puzzled frown. Loki despaired inside, sometimes he worried his Brother was not ready to be King if he couldn't notice something so obvious.

“I don’t -”

“So, this is the famous first amour I take it,” both Brothers turned to see Fandral, one of the Warriors Three, saunter forward with his usual cocky smirk. He clasped a hand on Loki’s shoulder, turning him a little to get a better look. “Looks good, much better than Thor’s first set.”

Loki giggled as Thor squawked indignantly. Fandral was his favourite of the Warriors that were closest to his Brother. With his dashing looks he was considered a lady’s man, a reputation he had upheld with the string of women Loki had seen him with since his early childhood. But Loki enjoyed his quick wit and the man was always eager to hear of Loki’s mischief, unlike some.

“Is that the only reason he had to cause such a fuss? The All-Father wouldn’t be impressed.” Loki scowled at the Lady Sif. He had never gotten on with the female warrior, possibly because supposedly when he was still a young infant, he had spilled ink in her hair, staining it black. Loki wasn’t sure if he believed the story or not, his Brother was one for embellishing the truth. But Sif for some reason had never liked him and people did say she once had golden locks instead of the dark tresses she now sported, so it was possible there was some truth to the tale.

“Now Sif, everyone knows a young mans first amour is an important moment.” A large man swept forward, as he looked at Loki with a smile. “A grand sight you make Young Prince.”

“Thank you Volstagg,” Loki chirped happily. Vostagg was the oldest of Thor’s friends, with a wife and several children of his own, so he didn’t feel awkward in playing with Loki as a youngster. But there was only so much eating Loki could put up with and Volstagg tended to treat Loki as if he was still a youngling, he was coming up to his next century thank you very much.

“Hmm,” was the only comment from the often-quiet Vanir Hogun, who rounded out the Warriors Three. Loki was always a little shy around the silent man. He’d never really interacted with Loki, content to simply stand in the back ground, thinking what, Loki did not know. But his silent gaze often unnerved the Young Prince, making being in his presence taxing.

“So, this is the famous amour then,” Thor mused, giving Loki’s attire the once over carefully. “I thought there was supposed to be a helmet.”

“Alviss said I couldn’t wear it until the ceremony,” Loki whined which made Thor chuckle.

“Don’t tell me the All-Father had that god-awful drawing you did commissioned?” Sif sneered. “You’ll look like a cow.”

Before Loki could retort Thor and the Warriors Three burst into laughter.

“True Sif,” Thor agreed.

“He'd be more of a calf than a cow,” Fandral added, causing the laughter to start up again. Loki wished for the floor to come and swallow him up, his face red with embarrassment and indignation.

“Shut up, horns are noble, at least I don’t look like a bird!”

“Birds no matter how small are still majestic, able to soar over their prey. A cow is merely food.” Loki growled at the smug look of satisfaction that Sif sent him, her words making her fellows laugh harder. His fists clenched as his Seidr swelled under his skin, willing to come to his aid. He squashed it down though, remembering the lessons from his Mother.

_“Never use Seidr in anger Loki.”_

_“Not even when they deserve it? What if someone hurt you, Father or Thor?”_

_“Righteous fury is a different thing, and something we will discuss when you’re a little older. But listen to me my sweet, Seidr is a weapon, just like a knife, sword or axe. Just as capable of hurting someone, especially if directed in anger. It will never turn out well, for you or others.”_

So, Loki stood there, allowing the elders to mock him. He was surprised then when Sif squeaked followed by a snort as her nose was transformed into that of a pig.

“What the -?” Volstagg exclaimed, while Fandral turned his amusement on his female companion.

“Loki,” Thor began to scold his younger Brother, who raised his hands in surrender.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Indeed, Young Prince, for although you are quiet adept for such a tender age, I believe even you have not yet mastered the art of transfiguration.” The sinuous voice cut across the open space towards the group, grabbing their attention and turning it in their direction.

“Amora,” Sif growled, though it sounded much deeper than her usual tone thanks to the nose she now possessed. Loki tried to keep his lips from twitching as the fellow spellcaster glided towards them. Amora was beautiful, a low-cut form fitting light blue and silver dress covered her form. Showing off the lean yet toned figure she possessed, along with two other assets that had most of the young nobles staring. Flowing golden blonde hair framed a heart shaped face. Cornflower blue eyes blinked innocently at the scene, though Loki swore he spotted a twinkle of glee.

“My, how lovely you look, Sif,” Amora cooed as she came to a stop at Loki’s left. “Now finally what is on the inside is visible for all to see.”

“Turn it back,” the warrior woman demanded. Amora startled, placing a hand over her chest.

“You thought this was me? A moment ago, you were blaming the Young Prince.” She smiled down at Loki, who returned it, he was enjoying watching the mischief unfold.

“Amora, cease your tricks,” Thor’s rumble cut through Loki’s fun. Instantly Amora’s eyes fixed on the Thunderer, a coy look fluttering over her features.

“Why of course Thor,” she waved a hand and Sif’s nose was once again back to its usual appearance. “You only had to ask.” Thor didn’t seem to notice the subtle indication in the sorceress’s voice, merely turning to Sif.

“Is all well?”

“Bitch,” the warrior female growled.

“Now, now, you shouldn't speak such words with a child present,” Amora scolded, smirking. “Why, think of what the Queen would say if she knew you used such foul language around the Young Prince.”

“She’d tan Thor’s hide,” Loki piped up, unwilling not to have his own bit of fun. “He’s supposed to set an example.”

“Enough you,” Thor grumbled, reaching out and locking the younger Prince’s head under his arm, messing up his hair.

“Ah! Get off Thor!” Loki yelp, kicking at his Brother’s legs furiously. Even though the play seemed rough, both were smiling. Loki’s grin was wider though, happy that Thor was playing with him instead yelling or ignoring him.  

“Not until you swear not to tell Mother.” Loki hissed, trying his luck again, but all he hit was solid muscle.

“Fine, fine,” he whined. Thor chuckled releasing his younger brother with an extra ruffle to his hair. “It’s not fair, your bigger than me,” Loki pouted, crossing his arms petulantly over his chest.

“You'll grow soon enough,” Thor smiled, feeling at one of Loki’s biceps before exclaiming. “Why I can even feel the muscles, how long have you been in the Cohort now?”

“Six moons, B’rother.”

“Really?” Thor frowned which made the resentment that churned inside Loki swell to the surface.

“Mother said she told you. I know I did,” and he had, before the training had even begun. Thor had promised to help him, but instead had gone on a quest merely a day before his initiation, completely missing his first training bout.

“I’m sure you’re doing marvellously in training, Prince Loki,” Amora simpered. “Why, I’m positive you will live up to your Brother’s astounding record.” A snort came from Sif.

“The Princeling doesn't have the stomach for a real fight.”

“At least he’s the correct gender to be in a Cohort,” Amora retorted before Loki could. “It must have been such a step down for you, you did fail to join the Valkyries after all.” Sif’s face turned red and even the Warriors Three turned concerned looks to each other. Loki glanced at his brother, who watched the display with tired eyes, though his fingers clutched tighter around Mjolnir. A scrape of a sword being freed filled the silence and Sif took a threatening step closer to the Sorceress.

“Why you -”

“Ah, Prince Loki, Prince Thor, I am glad I came upon you.”

“Alviss,” Thor raised a relieved hand at the old Steward, who walked briskly into the training yard. “What do you do here?”

“I was looking for Prince Loki,” the elder servant said, face not twitching even though he had to have known what kind of situation he had walked into. “The ceremony draws near, and he has to prepare. Your Father is also asking after you Prince Thor.”

“Of course,” Thor nodded, puffing his chest a little. “I will go to him immediately.”

“Very good Your Highness.”

“We will see you at the ceremony, Thor,” Fandral grinned, joined quickly by Hogan and Volstagg. Sif was still glaring at Amora, who watched the whole scene with cold eyes. Thor nodded, grasping a hold of Loki’s shoulder to push him forward.

“Come Brother, you can escort me part way.”

“Are you Princess Thor now?” Loki smirked, which earned him a half-hearted cuff around the head.

“Behave,” Thor growled, but Loki just smiled wider. The two Princes followed Alviss, who didn’t even raise an eyebrow at the pair’s antics, well used to them for how long he had been the House of Odin’s Steward. Thor, now away from his friends turned his whole attention to Loki, something which the younger Prince lapped up, telling him of all the mischief he had missed, as well as his first six moons in the Cohort.

“I beat Welch, though it was difficult, what with him being so much bigger than me,” Loki said proudly, beaming as Thor clapped his shoulder.

“It is good that you are doing so well in the Cohort, Brother.”

“Wish the instructors would let me use my Seidr though,” Loki said mournfully. “I could have beaten Welch in half the time.”

“The battlefield is no place for Seidr Loki,” Thor was quick to admonish. “You should forget about that flight of fancy and focus on battle training.”

“But I’m good at it.”

“Seidr is not a thing for a boy to excel in, leave the tricks to the women.” Loki’s stomach coiled at the dismissal of his Seidr. Thor was known for not having a knack for the art, something which had surprised a few people as he was the son of Frigga and Odin, two powerful Seidr uses. Loki could almost understand why Thor was so dismissive, it was hard to see a use for something you did not comprehend, but that didn’t make Thor’s brush off sting any less. Before Loki could get into a further debate with his Brother, Alviss spoke.

“Your Highness, Prince Loki and I must leave you now.”

“Truly?” Thor said taking a look around, finally noticing they were nearing their Father’s personal chambers. “Alright,” he bent down before Loki, clasping his shoulder. “I will see you soon Brother.” Loki forced a smile onto his face, pushing down his hurt to focus on Thor. This was after all his Brother’s big day, he wanted to be supportive. Reaching up, he wrapped his much thinner arms around Thor’s thick neck, giving him a brief hug.

“I love you, Thor,” Loki whispered the words, not wanting anyone, even Alviss to hear the confession. The Young Prince felt Thor smile, his beard bristles tickling Loki’s smooth cheeks as his Brother pulled away. With a final grin and wave, Thor headed in to Odin’s private quarters. Loki watched him go, thinking that the next time he would see his Brother, it would be when he was crowned King. A hand to his back brought him out of his thoughts. He turned to Alviss, whose usual stoic face had a faint smile on it.

“The Queen is waiting.” Loki nodded, turning to head off to join his Mother.

 

***

“Don’t pull on it.”

“But it gets trapped under my feet.”

“And wouldn’t that be a sight. The second Prince of Asgard falling on his face the day of his Brother’s coronation.”

“Mother,” Loki’s whine made Frigga smile. She adored her younger son when he let his childishness shine for all to see. It was getting rarer as he grew older, but Frigga was willing to use every trick in the book so that she could indulge in it just a little longer.

The pair of them were waiting in the antechamber that led into the Throne room of the All-Father. The various nobility, guards and other inter-realm guests were already in place, waiting for the arrival of the Royal family. Frigga watched as Loki fussed with his cape, it was green, with a black inner lining, coming to rest at his ankles, though on occasion it got caught in Loki’s boots, tripping him. Loki finally got his cape into a comfortable position, adjusting the horned crown that had slipped forward a little. He looked to his Mother, a pout on his lips, one she quickly soothed away with straightening his hair.

“You’ll get used to it,” she said kindly.

“Before or after I make a fool of myself?”

“Your young yet Loki, all children can make fools of themselves.” Loki scowled, but didn’t argue, he knew better than to argue with his Mother.

“Do you think it will be alright?” he asked.

“What, sweetheart?”

“The coronation,” Frigga frowned.

“I’m sure it will, the Palace has been preparing for this for the last year at least.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Loki said. “I meant Thor.”

“What about your Brother?”

“I -” Loki hesitated, he didn’t want to speak ill of Thor, not on this day, the day Thor had been waiting for most of his life. But his worries and concerns would not leave him alone. “Do you think he is ready? To be King?” Frigga stared at her younger son for a moment.

“My son, why would you ask that?”

“I just -” Loki licked his lips, the words not coming as skilfully to his tongue as he knew they should. Frigga’s confusion softened a little, and she reached out a hand and pulled her child to her bosom.

“Oh, my sweet child, Thor will be fine,” she soothed. “You Brother can be a little reckless,” Loki snorted, which earned him a light yank on his raven locks. “But he is a man now, responsible for stepping up into the role he was born to take.”

“But he’ll be alone.”

“He most certainly will not,” Frigga tapped Loki’s head in a scolding manner. “He will have your Father to guide him. Something which he didn’t have as a young man. He will have the Council to advise him and myself to comfort him.” Loki nodded, still not completely convinced. “And you know what else he’ll have?”

“What?”

“He’ll have you,” Loki looked up, surprised as his Mother smiled down at him.

“Me?”

“Of course, you’ll be there to support him, talk to him and knock him down a peg or two. That’s what Brothers are for.” Loki stilled, letting the words sink in. Then he buried into the warmth and comfort his Mother provided, letting her presence and her words cast away his worries and doubts.

“Truly?”

“Of course, your so important to your Brother, my little Loki. Never doubt your place at his side or in this family.”

“I thought this was meant to be my day, does that mean I get a hug to?” Loki stiffened in his Mother’s arms, but she wouldn’t let him pull away as Thor entered the antechamber.

“If you want one my son, you are more than welcome to join me and your Brother,” Frigga offered with a smirk down at Loki, who returned it, letting his shoulders relax and he leaned more into his Mother.

“Yes Thor, join the cuddle.” Thor snorted, shaking his head. Loki and Frigga broke apart, and Frigga did pull Thor into a hug of his own.

“I’m proud of you my son,” she said, making Thor blush.

“Mother,” the whine sounded so similar to Loki’s from earlier that Frigga had to laugh. She adjusted the winged helm on his head, making sure it sat straight on his golden locks. Then she smoothed out the cap and traced the armour.

“It turned out well.”

“Father had Dwarvern smiths work on it,” Thor stated.

“Make sure not to destroy it on your next quest, like the last three,” Loki piped up, earning him a glare from his Brother.

“Now, now, boys, none of that,” Frigga admonished, stepping back to admire her two sons. Though they were centuries apart in age, Frigga was proud to see the comradery between the two. “I’ll not stand for your fights, not on this day.”

“Of course, Mother,” Loki was quick to say, while Thor grumbled. The elder Prince fumbled a little with Mjolnir, which was slung on his belt, resting heavily against his leg. After a moment, he turned to his Mother, a vulnerable look on his face.

“How do I look?” The question caught Loki off guard, so used to his Brother being so confident in everything he did. Before Frigga could answer however, a quiet knock came from the door that led into the throne room.

“All-Mother, it is nearly time,” the voice of the guard was quiet, so as not to attract attention from any of the dignitaries in the throne room. Loki saw his Brother stiffen, as Frigga straighten her spine, standing regal and ready.

“It appears we must begin.”

“You two go ahead,” Thor said. “I’ll be along after you.”

“Thor?”

“I just need a moment,” Frigga frowned, but nodded her head, holding out her hand. “Come Loki.”

The younger Prince hesitated, looking between his Brother and Mother. Quickly he crossed to Thor, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“You look like a King, Thor,” Loki muttered so only Thor could hear. He then detached himself, scampering to Frigga, who took his hand and headed for the door. She didn’t ask what he had said, just smiled at him. They stood ready behind the door, Frigga waving her hand so that a knock sounded on the heavy wood.

The sound of trumpets came from beyond, it was followed by the booming voice of one of the Chamberlin’s.

“Presenting, Her Majesty, Frigga, Queen of Asgard and All-Mother. And His Highness, Loki, Prince of Asgard!”

The door creaked open, swinging outwards so that the throne room was revealed to the two Royals. It was a large space, with several pillars that held up a domed ceiling, that had several murals of the Royal family of Asgard. The throne room was not usually one filled with so many people. The Council did not meet there, having separate chambers from their meetings with the King. The throne room was usually reserved for petitioners and receiving ambassadors or Royal visitors from other Realms.

Loki stiffen when all the eyes turned to him. He tightened his grip on his Mother’s hand, one that she returned. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her head was high, chin jutted forward and face impassive. Loki easily mimicked her stance, fixing his features into something which resembled cool aloofness, but he knew he couldn’t quiet mask his awe. Following his Mother’s lead, they walked the length of the hall, down the centre where a gap had been left for this very purpose, it led right to the throne.

As they passed the various nobles and dignitaries, Loki took a discreet look around. Most people he did not know on sight, especially those near the back. He did see Amora, standing tall with the other Seidr uses. She nodded her head as though in a small bow at Loki, which caused the Young Prince to frown. As they neared the throne, Loki spotted several more who he was familiar with. There were the more important warriors. Tyr was a man who had distinguished himself during the Thousand-Year War, earning the rank of General. His rugged face and large muscled body had been something which had intimidated Loki when he had first met the man. Though once you got passed the hard exterior and the fearsome love he had for training, Loki had found a funny and kind Asgardian beneath.

Near him were the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. Fandral waved, one Loki was hard pressed not to return. Hogan and Volstagg were watching, both smiling, well Volstagg smiled, Hogan just looked less grim. Sif however wasn’t even looking at them, staring instead at the doors they had come through, as though she would be able to catch a glimpse of Thor, even as they were shut.

The closest to the throne was dominated by the Council of Nine. These were the men that were chosen to advise and help the King rule Asgard. Most were nobles, their family histories traceable to the first ruler of Asgard. One of them stepped forward. Erling was an aging man, not as old as Alviss, though well past his prime. With iron grey hair, which matched his eyes. He was tall, well built, a clue to that he was once a warrior, though a puckered scar sliced down over one eye, making him rather fierce looking. Being the Spokesman of the Council it was his job to receive Frigga and Loki before they joined the All-Father on Hlidskjalf. Erling bowed to the two Royals, a smile breaking across his features, distorting the scar even more.

“Your Majesty, Your Highness. We greet Thee.”

Frigga nodded, making sure not to incline her head to far. “I greet thee in turn.”

“I greet thee in turn,” Loki copied, the words coming out quieter than he would have liked. Erling stepped aside, now no longer barring the way to the throne. Hlidskjalf was made of solid gold, set high on a dais. Carved stairs led the way up to where Odin, the All-Father sat, waiting. A tug on his hand was all the warning Loki got before they were ascending. Frigga only let go when they reached the platform that was big enough for the two Royals to stand comfortably beside the throne. Frigga stepped ahead of Loki, curtsying low to the seated All-Father.

“Your Queen greets thee All-Father.” Odin finally stood. Leaning on Gungnir, the golden spear that was the symbol of power of the King of Asgard. He turned to his wife, taking her hand so that he could help her from her curtsy, kissing it.

“Your King greets thee in turn, All-Mother.” That was the signal for Loki to step forward. This series of events had been drilled into him for the last couple of moons, he knew he had no excuse for messing up. Loki bowed low.

“Your Prince greets thee All-Father,” Loki intoned, not rising from his bow until a large weathered hand took hold of his shoulder, righting him. Loki stared into the impassive gaze of his Father. Odin was about the same age as Erling, passed his prime, but still holding enormous power beneath the surface. The deep blue eye seemed to see right through Loki’s startling green gaze. The golden eye patch the only thing that broke that stern look.

“Your King greets thee in turn, my son,” Odin said, and Loki couldn’t help but feel a fission of happiness course through him. It had been so long since his Father had looked at him, what with all his focus being on preparing Thor. Loki hoped that now the coronation was happening he would be able to spend more time with his Father. Loki stepped back, taking his place beside his Mother, to the left of Hlidskjalf. She took his hand briefly, the only thing she could do in this situation to show her pride. Odin slammed the butt of Gungnir to the ground.

“Let Asgard greet its Crown Prince and after this day its King. Thor, Prince of Asgard.”

A thunderous shout went up from the crowd as the door was thrown open, only for Thor not to be there. Loki frowned, glancing at his Mother who was rolling her eyes.

“Where is he?” Loki whispered.

“Foolish boy,” was all she said, though it didn’t sound angry, more resigned and almost fond. Loki wanted to question his Mother more, but suddenly a familiar sound filled the air. As though something was moving at a great speed. Suddenly, something rocketed through the doors, Loki had barely any time to register that it was Mjolnir, seeming to crackle with energy. It rocketed around the throne room, drawing everyone’s gaze to it. Loki also watched, trying his best to keep it in sight. When it had done two laps of the room, it changed direction as though called. As it headed back to the doors, it was caught in Thor’s fist, who lifted it high with a cry.

The crowd was quick to respond, something which seemed to egg Thor on as he started to toss Mjolnir from hand to hand as he made his way up the ail towards the throne. Loki watched on with a smile, so much for being nervous, he thought. He glanced at his Father, whose face hadn’t twitched in either amusement or annoyance. Frigga, however raised an eyebrow as Thor approached. The elder son shuffled a little, though he winked at Loki when his Mother’s attention was taken by her husband when he cracked Gungnir against the ground again making silence settle in the hall. Thor knelt, bowing his head, Odin held out the spear for all to see.          

“Gungnir. Its aim is true, its power strong.” Odin’s voice, though quiet, filled the hall, making each word clear for all to hear. “With it I have defended Asgard and the lives of the innocent across the Nine Realms since the time of the Great Beginning. And though the day has come for a new King to wield his own weapon,” he nodded at Mjolnir, which was set before Thor at the bottom of the dais. “The duty remains the same.”

Odin pulled back Gungnir, so that he could directly address his son. “Thor Odinson,” Thor looked up into the face of his Father, now that he had been acknowledged. “My heir, my first born. So long entrusted with the mighty hammer, Mjolnir. Forged in the heart of a dying star, from the sacred metal of Uru. Only one may lift it. Only one is worthy. Who wields this hammer commands the lightning and the storm.” Thor beamed a little, pride making his chest puff out.

Loki rolled his eyes, Thor always had a large ego, their Father was going to make him unbearable after this little speech. “Its power has no equal, as a weapon to destroy, or as a tool to build. It is a fit companion for a King. Today, I entrust you with the greatest honour in all the Nine Realms. The sacred throne of Asgard.” A sombre tone entered Odin’s voice and suddenly to Loki’s eye he looked old. “I have sacrificed much to achieve peace. So, too, must a new generation sacrifice to maintain that peace. Responsibility, duty, honour. These are not merely virtues to which we must aspire. They are essential to every soldier and to every King.”

Thor nodded his head once, but Loki wondered if he fully understood what Odin meant. He wasn’t going to brag and say that he did. Most of the words the All-Father had uttered did not apply to him. But Thor struggled even with the basic of political conversation, how was he supposed to understand the hidden meanings in their Father’s speech? As Odin stepped down the stairs, Loki took a moment to glance around the hall. Most were silent and watching now, though they shuffled and rubbed their arms as though they were cold. The torches were also burning lower, filling the room with shadows that were not present at the start of the coronation. Loki’s observations were interrupted as Odin spoke again.

“Thor Odinson, do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?” Thor did not hesitate as he answered.

“I swear.”

“Do you swear to preserve the peace?” Again, Thor didn’t falter.

“I swear,” was his swift response. A sudden shiver beside him had the Young Prince turning from the historic display before him. His Mother was still watching, but her shoulders were shaking, and her skin had turned paler. Loki reached out and touched her hand. She was freezing.

“Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and pledge yourself only to the good of all the Realms?” Thor did pause this time, an unreadable expression flitting across his features, but he soon recovered.

“I swear.” Loki was by now not paying a bit of attention to the ceremony, concerned, he took a step closer to his Mother.

“Mother, are you alright?” his quiet question gained Frigga’s attention. She turned to her son, eyebrows furrowed.

“Loki -”

“Then on this day, I, Odin All-Father, proclaim you -” the All-Father suddenly stopped. His eyes leaving Thor, looking up at one of the banners that hung from the ceiling. Loki and his Mother followed his gaze, confused by the pause, only to gasp at the sight of the frozen banner, crackling as the ice continued to freeze it in place. It didn’t take long for Thor and some of the others in the crowd to notice what held the King’s attention. Thor frowned, opening his mouth to ask something, though Odin beat him to it. “Frost Giants.”


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! So welcome to the next part of this story. I'm thrilled with response it has gotten and I'm just so thankful people are willing to read this. 
> 
> To answer a comment by Silvermane36 I only know one fanfic that is kid Loki set in Thor. I think it's called Child King Loki or something along those lines. It's a one shot and not to long but I like it anyway. Check it out.
> 
> Anyway thanks for checking this out again. I hope you enjoy this next instalment. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Cheers! D.S X
> 
> P.S Again I've been editing, hope its making a difference.

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 2 **

At the shocked announcement, the crowd reacted. The warriors reached for their weapons and the nobility started to mutter worriedly between themselves. Thor summoned Mjolnir to his hand as the Warriors Three and Sif broke through the crowd to join his side. Together they ran from the throne room and towards where the faint sound of battle could be heard. Loki could only stand there in shock, not able to believe what he had just heard. Frost Giants? In the Palace? How? Before his thoughts could spiral out of control he was grabbed from behind. He tensed, though was quick to relax as his Mother pulled him close.

“Secure the Queen and Prince!” Odin called, stepping down from Hlidskjalf to follow Thor, several guards already hot on his heels.

“Father,” Loki reflexively called after him, moving as though to take a step out of his Mother’s tight embrace.

“Your Majesty,” Erling of the Council of Nine came up to the two, followed closely by the Einherjar. “You must get to safety.”

“Queen Frigga, this way,” one of the Einherjar said, motioning off behind the throne. Frigga nodded, gripping Loki tighter.

“Come Loki,” she whispered, moving quickly out of sight as the rest of the Council called for calm from the nobles.

“But Thor and Father -” Loki started even as he was pulled away by his Mother.

“They will both be fine,” she said, face softening slightly as she looked to her younger son. “They are skilled warriors.”

“But the Frost Giants -”

“Will be dealt with,” she cut him off. The Einherjar led them to a section of wall at the back of the hall. They paused, eyes closing, and Loki felt the vibration of Seidr in the air. After a moment, part of the wall dissolved, revealing a room.

“You will be safe here until the situation is under control,” the Einherjar bowed low, even as another ushered the two Royals into the private chamber. It was nice, with comfy sofas, chairs, a fireplace and even a stocked kitchen, but there were no windows, or another door. Once Frigga and Loki were inside, the wall was soon back in place, leaving them alone.

“What do you think happened, Mother?” Loki asked, breaking free of her grip to turn to her. “How could Frost Giants get into the Palace?”

The calm, cool expression Frigga had sported with the Einherjar vanished, to be replaced by tiredness and worry.

“I do not know sweetling,” she mumbled.

“Thor and Father went to fight them,” Loki pointed out, worrying his hands. Frigga gripped them tightly, regaining her son’s attention.

“They will be fine,” she said, gently leading him over to one of the sofas. She eased him down, taking a seat beside him. With a lazy flick of her hand, the fireplace roared to life, filling the room with warmth. “This is the Palace of Asgard, there are plenty of guards and Einherjar to assist them.”

Loki didn’t feel as confident as Frigga, but he allowed himself to be comforted. He lay into her side, his horned crown coming up into Frigga’s face. The Queen didn’t complain, only took the accessory from his head, placing it on the side table and running her hand through his hair.

Loki fell in to a light doze, unaware of how much time passed. However, that all changed when a sudden tickle of Seidr invaded his senses. He blinked his eyes, bringing them back into focus, just in time to see Odin walk into the private chamber, followed by Erling.

“Father!” Loki called, instantly righting himself, his Mother’s arm around his shoulders the only thing stopping him from rushing across the distance to hug the man. Odin acknowledge his younger son with a nod, turning his main attention to the Queen.

“You are both well?”

“Of course,” Frigga said, smoothing out her gown. “The Frost Giants?”

“Dead,” was the All-Father’s curt reply. Loki gasped while Frigga nodded sagely.

“What is to be Asgard’s response?”

“I will not bring this Realm into another war,” Odin intoned. Loki frowned.

“We won’t fight them?” He asked, not able to clamp his teeth down on his curious tongue. “But they -” he paused when Odin’s one remaining eye shot him a sharp look, but Erling chuckled.

“Just like his Brother, Odin,” he teased. Odin huffed, as Frigga took her younger son’s shoulder, bringing his attention to her.

“Sweetheart, how about you take your crown and find Alviss. I’m sure you want to get out of your ceremonial armour.” Loki’s eyebrow twitched, the scent of Frigga’s lie was sweet enough, but he knew that was what it was. He took a quick glance at the adults around him. Odin nodded at him, while Erling smiled. Holding in a huff, he agreed with his Mother, snatching up his horned crown from the side table, he made his exit.

Even as he stepped over the threshold, the wall that hid the secret chamber reappeared, disallowing Loki even the chance of eavesdropping. Wrinkling his nose, he headed back towards the throne room. It would be empty; the nobles and other dignitaries having been moved to safe rooms by the Palace guards and staff.

As he headed down the corridor a loud crash, followed by a bellow erupted into the still air. Startled, Loki twisted round, seeing one of the entrance ways into the private chambers behind the throne room, ones that would have been used to celebrate Thor’s coronation.

Curiosity crept up Loki’s spine. Not able to stop himself, he slid over to the arch, it was a simple matter to cast a spell of invisibility over himself. Slight of hand was something that he excelled at in his Seidr studies, much to Frigga’s amusement and slight exasperation. Which is why he added his own flare to the spell. He liked to experiment. But, not wanting to risk the spell faltering, he positioned himself so that he could poke his head around the corner. The room was lavish, the golden walls glowing in the low candle light. However, the room was trashed, the once laden table with delicacies provided by the kitchen staff was overturned, spilling the contents over the floor. Some of the furniture had been smashed, leaving splinters of wood and metal to mix with the food. Loki gaped in awe at the destruction, wondering what or who could have done such a thing.

“Redecorating, are we?” Loki angled his head to see Sif had entered from the other side of the room, followed by the Warriors Three. She was staring at the back of a furious Thor, and Loki knew he was furious from the way his shoulders rose and fell as he tried to calm down, who was facing the balcony. Volstagg’s gasp, followed by a choked wail stopped any response Thor would have wanted to give.

“What's this?” He exclaimed, staring aghast at the food all over the floor. Hogun grunted as he slapped his fellow on the back in condolence.

“I told you they'd cancel it.” Volstagg looked even more upset at that news, while Fandral laughed.

 

“We thought that was just you being your normal cheery self.”

         

“All this food” Volstagg bemoaned sadly as he took in the mess upon the floor. “So innocent, cast to the ground. It breaks the heart!”

Loki would have laughed if it wouldn’t have drawn attention to him. Thor didn’t seem to find anything funny though, striding out of the room and onto the balcony. The Warriors watched him go, glancing at each other, unsure of what to do for their friend.

“I’ll go talk to him,” Sif finally said, going after the Crown Prince. Fandral sighed, finding a chair that had not been smashed to bits and collapsing into it.

“What a day this turned out to be,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Aye,” Volstagg agreed. “’Tis sad that the blasted Frost Giants had to ruin such a day. Just look at all this waste.” Hogan said nothing but nodded his head.

“How do you think they even got into the Vault?” Loki’s eyes widened at that bit of knowledge, he did not know that the Frost Giants were in the Vault.

Hogan shrugged, “Seidr?” Fandral huffed.

“The Frost Giants have no Seidr,” he sneered. “How could savages learn the art that requires more book work than a scholar?”

“What do you think they were hoping to gain out of entering the Vault?” Volstagg mused. “The Casket was beyond their reach, the Destroyer ensured that.”

Loki swallowed, fear and a little awe filling his chest. The Destroyer had been activated? He’d never heard of such a thing happening in all of his life. He stopped the thoughts of what must have happened to the Frost Giants as soon as they tried to touch the Casket. Most likely there would have been no remains to return to the families.

Fandral snorted, leaning back further on the chair so that it was balanced on its hind legs. “Savages as I told you. Jotunheim is most likely as backwards as Midgard.”

“Madness!” Sif’s shout from the balcony had four heads turning, just in time to see Thor strolling back into the room with a wide smile on his face

“Madness?” Volstagg asked. “What sort of madness?” Thor grinned, throwing back his head and shoulders as he announced it.

“We're going to Jotunheim.” The silence that followed the words was shocked, surprised. Loki almost yelped, as he stared wide eyed at his Brother. Was Thor mad?

“What?!” Fandral finally managed to get out, slamming his chair back flat as he gaped at Thor.

“Thor,” Sif spoke, coming up to stand beside the Crown Prince. “Of all the laws of Asgard, this is one you must not break.”

Loki for once agreed with the Warrior woman. Even he knew Odin’s laws on journey’s to Jotunheim. It was banned. Pure and simple. Ever since the Thousand-Year War, no one was allowed to travel to or from the frozen Realm, on threat of treason. Loki sighed, glad he was invisible, so he was able to slam a palm over his face. What was Thor thinking?

The Warriors Three also seemed a little unnerved, as for once they didn’t jump to agree with the Prince. Fandral swallowed, handsome face twisted with agitation and fear. “This isn't like a journey to Midgard,” he said. “Where you summon a little lightning and thunder and the mortals worship you as a god. This is Jotunheim.”

“And if the Frost Giants don't kill you, your Father will!” Volstagg agreed while Hogan nodded. Thor shook his head, spreading his hands wide in a peaceful gesture.

“My father fought his way into Jotunheim, defeated their armies, and took their Casket! We'd just be looking for answers.”

“It is forbidden!” Sif growled. Thor ignored her, instead smiling wider as he continued on with his argument.

“My friends, have you forgotten all that we've done together?” The Warriors shifted nervously, unable to answer. Thor turned first the Fandral. “Who brought you into the sweet embrace of the most exotic maidens in all of Yggdrasil?”

Fandral shivered, his pupils dilating as memories flooded him. Loki rolled his eyes at the sight. Trust in Fandral to be willing to follow his lust on an adventure.

“You did,” he said, and Thor smirked, directing his next words to Hogan.

“Who led you into the most glorious of battles,” then he looked to Volstagg adding. “And to delicacies so succulent you thought you'd died and gone to Valhalla?”

The two man shared a glance before saying. “You did.” Thor preens, pride clear for all to see. Finally, he turns to Sif, who had watched the whole thing with her arms crossed over her chest.

“And who proved wrong all who scoffed at the idea that a young maiden could be one of the fiercest warriors this Realm has ever known?” Loki watched as the just stated Fiercest Warrior, averted her gaze, a slight blush colouring her cheeks as she took in Thor’s words. Loki had hoped that Sif would be the hold out, but it looked as though Thor’s charm was going to overcome that.

 

 **“** I did,” Sif said, with a slight condescending smile, which was probably why Thor was quick to add.

“True. But I supported you,” before Sif could argue, Thor turned back to the Warriors Three. “My friends, trust me now. We must do this.”

Loki looked at them all, seeing straight away that Thor had managed to accomplish what he had set out to do. They were going, and what was he going to do about it? He could go in there, confront Thor. But his Brother would just lock him in his room until it was all over. He could sneak off now, go to Father and Mother, tell them what Thor was going to do. But, even though he probably deserved it, he didn’t want to get Thor in trouble. And, just a little part of him was curious. Loki was a known prankster, a trickster, he couldn’t help but be intrigued as to how the Frost Giants got in. Something that was said to be impossible.

He watched as the Warriors and Sif declared their intent to follow Thor. He couldn’t demand they take him with them. Thor would never allow it. Being the much younger Prince, he was barely allowed to leave the safety of the Palace without a guard. There was no way Thor was going to allow him to Jotunheim. Loki smirked, as he backed up, heading down the corridor a little before dropping the invisibility spell and hurrying to the Royal quarters.

Who ever said Thor had to know?

***

Though not telling Thor and still being able to go to Jotunheim was a lot harder than Loki had initially thought. He’d headed right back to his room after he had overheard Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three’s plan. No one was there, the servants to busy with their usual duties, and Alviss was most likely dealing with issues within the House of Odin. He wouldn’t have much time, but he needed to change out of the ceremonial armour and into something warmer. Jotunheim was a frozen Realm, just wearing his usual leathers, cotton vest and cloak wouldn’t be enough.

After a frantic search through his wardrobe, something that was usually reserved for the maid, Loki was pleased with his finds. A long woollen coat that came to his knees, Frigga had insisted he wear it when the snow had fallen when he had been a century younger. Loki thought she was just being overprotective, he hardly ever felt the cold anyway. He combined that with gloves, a scarf and a pair of boots. He slipped on his training leathers, as they were thicker than the ones he wore for every day. He also buckled his training sword to his belt, it wasn’t a weapon he favoured, though he had only been in the Cohort for a few moons. He took his knives though, the weights familiar and much more practised in his hands thanks to the training his Mother had given him during his Seidr studies.

Once ready, Loki carefully hid a letter he had written, Seidr came in handy when you wanted to change and didn’t have the hands left to do anything else. He placed it on his desk, concealing it with a simple banishing spell. It would hold for a couple of hours before fading, or disperse if he willed it, but he doubted he would have a need for it. But still, he wasn’t about to leave the Palace without some form of insurance. To help with his ruse, he placed an actual note on the table, telling anyone that came looking for him in his rooms that he was out in the gardens. Loki smirked, the gardens were vast, it would take the servants hours to find him, if in fact he was going there.

Satisfied, Loki recast his spell of invisibility, then snuck out the door and down the corridors of the Palace. The place was empty, the hour growing late and most staying in their rooms or suites as they were unsure of what to do now that the coronation had been disrupted. Loki headed to the back entrance, thinking that Thor would not be so stupid as to walk out of the front. Keeping to the shadows, even with his invisibility spell, he eventually emerged near the servants exit. Slipping out behind a kitchen boy, Loki made his way to the Rainbow Bridge.    

It had always amazed Loki, the Rainbow Bridge was something even most adult Asgardians didn’t understand. Built in the time of Burri, Loki's great grandfather, most Seidr users still struggled to grasp what exactly had been done to create such a thing. A thin, almost glass like bridge, stretched from the main land of Asgard, out over the Void to the Observatory which housed the Bifrost. It danced with colour, fliting too fast to completely see. Loki wondered if those were the remnants of the Seidr of its creators, forever trapped in the one thing that had withstood the test of time.

Loki made sure to take the less populated routes to the Bridge. He didn’t want to risk running into anyone, his invisibility would make bumping into a passer-by hard to explain. He thought for sure that he would be first to the Bridge. Thor would surely need to gather supplies; Sif and the Warriors would also have to prepare. As well as thinking of an excuse for the many guards and guest that might want to call on the Crown Prince. Sadly, that was not the case and Loki had to hold in a curse as he spotted Thor and his band nearly half way across the Bridge.

“Bor’s balls,” Loki muttered, dashing onto the Bridge so that he could catch up. As he reached them, he slowed up, taking deep breathes to keep his breathing regular and in time with the others. They may not act like it, but Loki knew Thor and his band were skilled warriors. They would be able to pick up on an extra set of footfalls, as well as breathing. As he came up behind them, pieces of their conversation began to filter back.

“We must first find a way to get past Heimdall,” Thor said.

“That will be no easy task. It's said the Gatekeeper can see a single dew drop fall from a blade of grass a thousand worlds away.” Volstagg muttered warily.

“And he can hear a cricket passing gas in Niffelheim,” Fandral joked, though it was not well received by his friend.

“Jest not!” Volstagg bellowed, giving Fandral a dirty look. “He heareth all!” Fandral smirked, content with winding up his larger friend.

“Please. Getting past him should be simple enough now, since he seems to be letting Frost Giants sneak by under his nose.” Loki choked on his own mirth, but Volstagg paled, directing his eyes to the sky.

“Forgive him!” He shouted, sounding a little terrified. “He meaneth no offense.” Loki watched as Thor shook his head at the two’s antics, carrying on towards where the aforementioned Gatekeeper resided. Loki tagged along behind, keeping a little away from the group. He swallowed a little in nervousness as they approached. He had forgotten about the all seeing Heimdall. The man who stood as the first defence of Asgard, and whose responsibility it was to sound the horn should invaders come. He hoped that his spell of invisibility would be enough to fool Heimdall, at least until Thor and his merry band were either sent home or on towards Jotunheim.

As they arrived at the Observatory, a small sanctum that sat at the end of the Rainbow  Bridge, with a domed roof and a turret like protrusion that pointed down towards Asgard. Loki was surprised to find Heimdall, already stood outside, as though waiting for them. His dark skin glowed in the faint light of the Rainbow Bridge. His armour, a deep gold, contrasted starkly against his deep skin, along with the sword which was strapped across his back. Eyes that should have been white with a dark pupil where gold, and they stared at the group with a look of knowing.

Sif scowled at the sight of him, and the Warriors shared nervous looks. Thor blinked, then plastered on his usual charming smile before swaggering forward.

“Good Eve, Heimdall -”

“You're not dressed warmly enough,” Heimdall cut the Crown Prince off, though his tone with respectful, almost serene. Thor hesitated, mouth gaping open as he tried to rally.

“I'm sorry?” he asked, while the others looked just as bemused.

“The freezing cold of Jotunheim. It will kill you all in time, even you Prince Thor.” The Prince opened his mouth to argue, though Heimdall’s golden eyes narrowed as he took in the whole group. “You think you can deceive me? I, who watch all? I, who can sense the flapping of a butterfly's wings a thousand worlds away?” He fixed a pointed gaze on Fandral, who squirmed. “Or can hear a cricket passing gas in Niffelheim?”

Fandral gaped and Loki would have found the expression funny if he hadn’t been so worried. It was true that Heimdall could see all. It was possible he had seen him cast his invisibility spell. But the Gatekeeper had not made mention of him. Possibly he had been distracted, searching for how the Frost Giants had come into Asgard.

“That was just a bit of a jest,” Fandral spluttered. “Really...”

“You must be mistaken.” Sif quickly stepped in, hoping to do some form of damage control. “We're not -”

“Enough,” Thor’s booming tone cut through whatever excuses Sif could come up with, stepping forward with a confidence only Royalty could have. “Heimdall, may we pass?”

The Gatekeeper stared him down. For a moment Loki believed Heimdall looked right at him, but that was impossible, he would have said something, surely?

“For ages have I guarded Asgard and kept it safe from those who would do it harm.” Heimdall said as his golden gaze burned into the young warriors. “In all that time, never has an enemy slipped by my watch. Until this day. I wish to know how that happened.”

“Then tell no one where we've gone until we've returned,” Thor was quick to press his good luck giving Loki little time to be surprised at the Gatekeeper’s statement. The younger Prince had been sure that Heimdall would not humour them, but it seemed the situation, combined with his Brother’s charm was enough to sway the ever-watchful Asgardian. Loki trotted into the Observatory behind the rest of the group. It was a large place, with pillars that served as windows looking out into the vast nothingness, that only Heimdall’s all seeing gaze could glean anything from. A large platform sat in the middle of the room, with a just as big control apparatus to the left. Thor and his band, headed for the platform, while Heimdall moved to the apparatus that no doubt activated the Bifrost. Loki once again, positioned himself behind the group, making sure he had enough bodies between himself and the Gatekeeper, though it was a tall order not to accidently touch anyone.

“Be warned,” Heimdall suddenly said, as he pulled his sword from his back, holding it in his right hand. “I will honour my sworn oath to protect this Realm as its Gatekeeper. If your return threatens the safety of Asgard, the Bifrost will remain closed to you. You'll be left to die in the cold wastes of Jotunheim.”

Loki saw Volstagg shuffle nervously, Hogan seemed even more grim, Fandral’s smile faltered and Sif’s shoulders tensed. Even Loki’s eyes widened as he took in the implication. He could be stranded on Jotunheim with no way to come home if Heimdall thought it unsafe? Maybe he should rethink tagging along with Thor. His Brother though, with his ever-huge ego, just shook his head and laughed.

“I have no plans to die today.”

“None do,” Heimdall replied, and before more could be said, plunged his sword into the control panel. The Observatory hummed as the Bifrost was activated, the lights that had raced across the Bridge brightened, speeding in their direction as they fed energy into the Bifrost. Heimdall turned his sword, Loki felt the Observatory start to shift beneath his feet. He caught himself before he could go crashing into Hogan’s back. He couldn’t help but feel a little excited. He had never travelled by Bifrost before, being not of age to travel safely outside of Asgard. The Observatory swung so the turret that had once been facing Asgard shifted so it was directed out into open space. Heimdall grunted as he pushed the sword deeper into the panel. A pause, then a great beam of rainbow light blasted out of the turret and into the dark black beyond. A shudder came from behind the group. Loki glanced over his shoulder to see part of the platform open up, revealing the Bifrost in all its glory.

“All is ready,” Heimdall said. “You may pass.”

“Couldn't you just leave the bridge open for us?” Volstagg asked, in one final attempt to convince the Gatekeeper.

“To keep this bridge open would unleash the full power of the Bifrost and destroy Jotunheim with you upon it.” Volstagg paled and even Loki swallowed nervously. The Bifrost had the ability to destroy a Realm? That was something his tutors never taught him in history lectures.

“Ah. Never mind, then,” Volstagg tried to make light of it, but no one was paying attention to his moment of cowardice. Thor was grinning, turning to the Bifrost. Loki prepared to shift out of his way, but he glanced over his shoulder to address his friends first.

“Come on. Don't be bashful.” The Warriors Three and Sif were quick to join him after the goad. Loki waited until all of them are before the Bifrost, where their bodies started to stretch and distort, getting caught in the maelstrom. He stepped forward, joining them in their journey at the last moment. It was as his own body started to become atoms that he heard a gasp behind him. He had just enough time to glance back to see Heimdall, staring right at him. Golden eyes wide as he took in the child Prince about to descend to Jotunheim.

“Young Prince?” Loki barely caught it. His being jerked forward, becoming one with the light beam as he, his Brother and his friends travelled along the Bifrost and to their destination. Jotunheim.

Loki tried his best to concentrate as he was jetted along the Bifrost, but it was much to hard. He felt like he was floating, flying almost, even though he knew logically that his body was nothing but particles travelling at light speed. He couldn’t feel his Brother, or Sif or the Warriors Three beside him, though he knew they are there, but without sight of their physical presence it was easy to believe that he is alone. Suddenly a punching sound surrounded him, and something slammed beneath his feet, as they rematerialize in an instant. The Bifrost had touched down.

Loki couldn’t keep his feet. The shock of the Bifrost travel along with the rough landing had him sprawling on his back. Luckily the ground beneath him was soft, though cold. Loki barely felt it though, the heavy layers he had chosen to wear seeming to their work. He sat up when he heard a sharp yelp. Turning he saw Volstagg, being stopped from falling backwards off a cliff by Thor holding on to his belt.

“Come on big fella. Up!” with a grunt Thor pulled the burly man to safety, so he was stood with the rest of the group.

“This belt!” Volstagg proclaimed, loudly, wrapping a meaty hand around the object in reverence. “This belt is now my lucky belt! I will never remove it! Even when bathing!”

“You bathe?” Fandral shot the dig in, which earned him a dirty look from his friend. Loki rolled his eyes at the banter, getting carefully to his feet. His spell of invisibility was still intact, but it would do little good with the amount of snow that now surrounded him. He could already tell that there was a hole where he had landed, distorting the flat landscape that stretched out before them. As Loki had observed before, they seemed to have landed atop of a cliff, with a steep decent to the flat wasteland, made up of snow and ice below. It carried on until grey mists swallowed it up, making any forms or landmarks impossible to make out. Loki shifted, making sure that he was behind Thor and his group. It was the best he could do to conceal his presence. Hopefully none of them would look back too much, noticing the extra pair of foot prints.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Hogan spoke softly, his hand was already on the hilt of his sword, his dark eyes surveying the land nervously.

“Too late now,” Thor said, though his confidence was dimmer, Loki noticed Mjolnir was already in his hand.

“Actually,” Fandral added with a cheery grin. “It’s not. We could turn right around. Hop back to Asgard, share a mug by the fire. Could be nice.” Thor grunted, ignoring Fandral’s words and marching off down the incline and to the wastelands below. Fandral sighed, moving to follow. Sif was quick to catch up with Thor, walking with determination at his side. Hogan and Volstagg kept to the rear, for which Loki was grateful as he fell into step with them, trying to keep in their tracks.

As they moved forward, Loki started to feel a trickle of unease. Jotunheim seemed to be deserted, no buildings or villages, not even Jotuns. Loki wondered if maybe it would have been best to scout the area first, look for anyone or thing that might be around. But of course, Thor didn’t think like that and there was nothing Loki could do to tell his Brother this without revealing himself, which would get him into trouble. Resigned to whatever decisions Thor made he followed on.

The wind picked up as they trekked on the flat land, the mists obscuring far ahead. Thor’s skin had paled, and the Warriors Three were shivering. Even Sif’s hair looked frozen at the ends and her fingers had turned blue. Loki pulled his coat further around himself, glad for the warmth it provided. Seeming to notice his friends shivering, Thor spun to face them with his usual grin.

“It feels good doesn’t it? To be together again, adventuring in another world?”

“Adventuring?” Fandral managed to stutter out between chattering teeth. “Is that what we’re doing?”

“What would you call it?” Thor asked.

“Freezing,” Fandral hissed, rubbing his hands over his arms.

“Starving,” Volstagg groaned. Sif scoffed.

“Whining,” she said, looking down her nose at the two men, who didn’t care for her scolding.

“How about a song to lift our spirits?” Thor suggested over the wind. Loki snorted himself at that, it was such a Thor thing to suggest. He remembered when he had been a young toddler, he’d fallen and hurt his knee. The first thing Thor had suggested was to sing a song to make him feel better. To bad Thor had the voice of a wounded Bilgesnipe.

“No! Not that,” Hogan said, shaking his head in fear.

“Please don’t make us sing again,” Sif insisted, which was quickly backed up by Fandral and Volstagg. Thor gave a put-out pout, but let the matter drop. Loki watched as the group continued to banter, even as they walked through a Realm that had been forbidden to them by the All-Father himself. He’d only ever seen them within the confines of the Palace where it was safe to boast and joke about adventures that went their way. But in the thick of it, he’d thought they’d be … well he wasn’t sure, serious maybe? Not laughing in the face of something that could get them killed. Loki didn’t know if it was bravery or stupidity.

Finally, they came upon something. It would have once been a great city, with towering structures made entirely of ice and intricate dwellings composed of the same. But now it was just a ruin. The ice was shattered in places or was so worn away by the winds so there were only small sections left that the eye could see. Loki couldn’t help but feel a little sad. In it’s prime, Jotunheim must have been a place of wonder to behold. Now it was just a ravaged Realm, unable to become what it once was.

The group stalked into the city, weapons in hand as they carefully looked around.

“Where are they?” Sif suddenly asked, to which Thor scoffed.

“Hiding. As cowards always do.” Loki didn’t think that was true. Why would the Jotun hide from them when they had the advantage of home ground? They moved further into the city, coming into a central plaza. The remains of the buildings that surrounded them offered a respite from the wind and snow, but also plenty of shadowy hiding places for beings to lurk.

Loki shivered as he felt eyes on him. He wasn’t the only one as Thor and the rest of his band held their weapons tight. After a moment a Jotun finally emerge from the shadows. Loki gaped openly at the being. It was so tall, topping over eight-foot-high with a wicked looking ice spear gripped in their right hand. With a shaved head and only a loin cloth for cover the blue skin of the frozen creature stood out starkly against the white of the snow. Intricate scaring covered the being’s arms and chest, and fierce red eyes glared at the group who dared to trespass on their land.

“What is your business here, Asgardian?” the Jotun’s voice was cracked, like ice shattering under heavy weight. Thor looked down his nose at the Jotun.

“I speak only to your King, not to his foot soldiers.”

“Then speak,” a deep dark voice came from another part of the shadows. Loki tried his best to hide his fear, thankful that he was invisible to those around him, as he was sure he had failed. The new Jotun that was emerging from the darkness reminded him of his Father. With eyes that seemed old but held an expression that Loki could not read. He was taller than the other Jotun, towering over Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three. Age lines creased his forehead, but with his shoulders back and proud walk, Loki was sure that even with age he was a warrior to be reckoned with.

Once fully before the Asgardian’s the Jotun stared at them, with neither disdain nor fear. “I am Laufey, King of this Realm.” Loki saw Thor swallow nervously, even the Warriors and Sif were completely unable to conceal their trepidation.

“I am -”

“We know who you are, Odinson,” Laufey cut Thor off easily, even turning away from him, as though Thor was nothing but a barking wolf cub, to take in the others. “Why have you brought the stench of your blood into my world?” Thor bristled, squaring his own shoulders, glaring at Laufey.

“I demand answers.”

Laufey grunted, taking Thor in with a quick sweep of his eyes.

“You ‘demand’?”

“How did your people get into Asgard?” Thor questioned, not even a trace of respect in his tone. Loki worried his lip as he watched the proceedings. What was Thor thinking making such a demand from a King, in his own Realm at that? It would annoy even the ever-patient Vanir, never mind a Jotun.

Laufey chuckled, voice as hard as the ice of his home. “The House of Odin is full of traitors.”

The Warriors and Sif exchanged significant looks. Loki frowned as his mind started to work furiously. The House of Odin? That could be any number of people. Alviss, Mother’s waiting maids, even the chamber maids, stable boys and kitchen staff. Why would any of them allow the Jotun into Asgard. Point of fact, how could any of them do that?

“Do not dishonour my Father’s name with your lies,” Thor bellowed, anger clear for all to see. Laufey hissed, showing bright white teeth.

“Your Father is a murderer and a thief. He stole what was ours and left our world in ruins. We have the right to reclaim the Casket.” Loki perked up at the mention of the Casket. So Laufey knew about the attempt, that at least pointed to him authorising it, if not being directly involved. Loki smirked at little, maybe the stories were right, and the Jotun were a little slow. No King would admit to a failed theft to their accuser.  

Thor huffed, “not when you’d use it to make war against other Realms.” Loki shivered as Laufey tossed back his head and laughed.

“And why have you come here?” he asked mockingly. “To make peace? You long for battle. You crave it. I see you for what you are, Thor Odinson. Nothing but a boy trying to prove himself a man.” Thor stiffened at the pointed observations of his character, fingers clenching tightly around Mjolnir as he snarled.

“This boy has grown tired of your mockery,” unbelievably, his Brother took a step forward, hammer lifting as though he had every intent of smashing Laufey’s head in right then and there. Loki couldn’t hold it in any longer. Whether it was the blatant stupidity his Brother was showing or worry that this could quickly escalate into something well beyond Loki was able to deal with. Whatever the reason his mouth opened, and a broken shriek erupt.

“Thor!” his voice carried over the wind, making all the Asgardians turn in surprise and shock. The Frost Giants merely looked confused, not able to pin point where the voice had come from. Thor whipped around, blonde hair flying.

“Loki?” he called in disbelief, even as his eyes roamed over the white landscape. Loki quickly cancelled his invisibility spell, the effort of keeping it up so long finally catching up with him as his shoulders sagged a little. The Warrior’s Three and Sif gaped at him, as though unable to believe that he was truly there.

“Young Prince,” Volstagg gasped. “What are you doing here?” Loki didn’t bother to answer the man, too busy picking his way to his Brother, whose shock was quickly morphing into anger. Once close enough he was snatched by his collar.

“What in Hel’s name are you doing here?” he hissed into Loki’s face.

“Following you,” was Loki’s simple answer, one that would do him no favours with his Brother’s raising temper.

“You should be on Asgard,” Thor growled, grip tightening as he glared at his younger Brother. “It’s not safe here for you.”

“I think that applies to both of us,” Loki pointed out which only made Thor’s rage worse.

“Do Asgardians bring younglings now to fight their battles?” Laufey’s cold voice interrupted the explosion that was surely set to come from Thor. “Has the Aa-Father sunk so low?” the two Brothers stiffened. Loki turned his head to see Laufey, watching the two, but he was no longer alone. A swarm of Jotuns had taken their distraction as a chance to appear from the shadows, surrounding the Asgardians, trapping them like rats. Thor released Loki, pushing him behind him.

“Leave my Brother out of this,” he growled, lightening sparking around Mjolnir, ready to let fly.

“And what will you do to me, Thunderer if I do not?” Laufey sneered, riling up Thor all the more. Loki, panicked at the escalating threats, gripping Thor’s arm tightly.

“Brother, stop and think,” he said, eyes flicking to the Jotuns circling them. “Look around you. We are outnumbered. We need -”

“Know your place, Brother,” the words cut through any further arguments Loki was about to make. But it was the plain dismissal that tore at Loki’s heart. Of course, he understood that he was young, but ‘know his place’ what did that even mean?

“You should listen to the youngling’s council,” Laufey’s deep voice brought Loki out of his thoughts. He turned his attention to the Frost Giant, who was watching the Brothers, though Loki thought his face looked more sad than threatening. “Go now, while I still allow it.”

Loki didn’t know whether to cry or keel over in shock. Laufey was going to let them go? Thor was too busy simmering with rage at the frozen King, so Loki took advantage. Dipping out from behind Thor he bowed to the Frost Giant, keeping his eyes averted in submission. His tutors had taught him that the best way to pacify a greater authority was to make them believe they had you scared. Though in this case it wasn’t much of an act.

“We’ll accept your most generous offer,” Loki said respectfully. Thor started to sputter behind him, but Loki was prepared now. Fixing his best wide-eyed look in place he faced Thor, adding a shine of tears and lip wobble for good measure. “Please, Brother, I want to go home.” The slight quiver to his tone seemed to do the trick. Thor stared at him, then sighed, clasping a hand on Loki’s shoulder, steering him so that they could walk back to the rest of the warriors. Thor’s bulk protecting Loki’s vulnerable smaller form.

Just as they were reaching the still shocked, but slightly relieved Warriors Three and Lady Sif, an unfamiliar voice came from behind them.

“Run back home little Princess.”

Thor tensed instantly, fingers tightening on Loki’s shoulder so hard that it hurt. Loki hissed, as Fandral muttered “Damn.” Suddenly Loki was pushed aside, and Thor had sent Mjolnir flying, so it smacked right into the Jotun who he supposed had uttered the parting words. The large being was knocked clean off its feet, sent skidding metres before coming to a halt with a loud crack. Loki winced, though Thor didn’t blink as Mjolnir came racing back to his hand. He caught his weapon, a satisfied grin spreading across his lips.

“Next?” he asked. The Jotuns growled, Loki watched with equal amounts awe and fear as ice began to form around them, creating thick armour and wicked looking blades. With a yell, they descended upon them. Loki found himself pushed further behind his Brother, right into the path of the Warriors Three and Sif, who had rushed to form a loose circle with the Young Prince in the middle.

“Silly hammer!” Volstagg yelled gripping his axe over his head, eyes wild. “Has a mind of its own!”

“I hope that’s just decorative,” Fandral muttered, looking the ice armour over carefully as a Jotun headed right for him.

“Stay out of the way, Young Prince,” Hogan said to Loki, who was trapped in the middle of the group. A huff came from Sif.

“It’s all he can do,” Loki scowled at the female warrior. Reaching with shaking hands he pulled free his training sword, holding it with an awkward grip. He still wasn’t used to the weight, much preferring his knives. But the smaller blades would make close quarters fighting too dangerous.

Thor had left the circle, swinging Mjolnir at Jotun after Jotun. The group tried to follow, fighting off any Giants that came their way. Loki kept to the centre, away from most of the action. He was glad of it, as he didn’t think he would be capable of tacking on a grown Frost Giant, even with his Seidr.

“Next!” Thor called again, a cocky grin on his face. Loki gaped at him, as though seeing his Brother for the first time.

“He’s enjoying this?” the question came out before he could stop it, though none of the warriors were paying any attention to him. Too busy bantering between themselves to give him the slightest bit of notice. As Thor took out another Jotun, the frozen beings began to attack in earnest. Most likely trying to use their superior numbers to overwhelm the Asgardians. As the rush descended the Warriors Three and Sif tried to hold their formation, but Thor had already disappeared. Loki shivered as Hogan blocked a strike that would have come close to his head.

“We’ll not be able to hold this,” he said.

“Split formation,” Sif grunted, stabbing into the chest of a Jotun.

“But -” Fandral looked to Loki, whose arms were starting to quiver.

“We don’t have a choice,” the female warrior snapped, already moving from the tight ring to engage the Jotun’s. Hogan was quick to follow, though Volstagg wavered.

“Hide yourself, Prince Loki,” he said.

“But I can fight -” Loki started to protest, but a deep chuckle from Volstagg halted anymore of his words.

“It is brave of you to try, but this is beyond you. Hide until the battle is done.” Roaring like a wounded boar Volstagg charged the Jotun’s, blocking Loki’s form as best he could.

“Volstagg!” Loki called after the man, but something shoved him hard in the back.

“Go, Young Prince!” Fandral shouted, brandishing his sword before doing the same as Volstagg. Loki hesitated for only a moment before running. Volstagg was right, this was beyond him. He didn’t have the experience, not in Seidr or weapons training. If he tried to help, he’d either be killed or get someone else in terrible trouble.

Ducking, Loki tried to recast his spell of invisibility, but it seemed like he over did it, as his Seidr was sluggish to respond and he was sure he only managed to cast the spell over his head. Abandoning the idea, Loki settled for good old-fashioned hiding. Luckily, it seemed that the majority of the Jotun’s were distracted by Thor, the Warriors Three and Sif, giving Loki time to get out of the way. Making his way through the Plaza, Loki thought that he might be best off hiding in some of the remnants of the buildings. The Jotun’s wouldn’t think to look for him in the ice. As he headed over, a crack filled the air, and Loki had to scramble away as some of the ice shattered under the force of Mjolnir, thrown by Thor in his battle rage. Loki yelped as large fragments sailed over his head, crashing into the ice, splitting it apart.

“Damn Thor,” Loki muttered, turning to cast about himself, but as he did so, a shadow came from behind him. Loki had just enough time to dodge a large blue hand that was intent on wrapping around his neck. He ducked aside, swinging his sword to put more distance between himself and the Jotun warrior. The being snarled, ice forming a large bludgeon like weapon. It advanced and Loki was forced to retreat. He kept this up until he felt the ground disappear from under his heel. He glanced behind him. He’d been backed up against a gaping crevice, with darkness that stretched out endlessly below.

Swallowing, he stared wide eyed at the Jotun, who grinned. What was he going to do? He couldn’t run, the Jotun would catch him. But he couldn’t take this being head on, he would be crushed. Thinking furiously, Loki uttered the first spell that came to mind. Illusions were his best skill and he quickly crafted a replica of himself. Just in time he stepped aside as the Jotun swung its bludgeon. The weapon going right through the illusion, startling the Jotun so that it stumbled. Loki, not one to miss an opportunity, darted behind the Jotun and furiously kicked it up the backside. The force was enough to send the already over balanced being further forward and with a yell, it fell into the crevice, disappearing into the darkness.

Loki stood there a moment, taking deep breathes as he stared into the crevice. He’d just killed a Jotun. He, Loki, had killed one of the most feared beings on Asgard. It didn’t feel as fulfilling as he thought it would. In fact, he felt a little empty. Maybe it was because he had simply kicked the beast and not fought it the way most warriors described their battles when they told their tales. Yes, it was possibly that, next time, he would have to engage correctly.

Loki was brought out of his introspection by Thor’s shout.

“Come on! At least make it a challenge for me!”

Spinning, Loki saw his Brother on the other side of the plaza, quiet near where Laufey had moved to higher ground to watch the still enfolding battle. A crack of the ice signalled movement, Loki managed to make out a large Jotun, dwarfing all the others he had seen so far, making its way towards his Brother. Loki worried at his lip as Thor grinned, cackling in unrepentant glee.

“Now that’s more like it,” he crowed, engaging the Jotun, whose hit sent Thor down into the ice. Loki watched as his Brother stood, face split into a grin as he sent Mjolnir flying at the Jotun, sending it head over heels back onto the ice, where it didn’t move again. Loki watched as the Warriors Three and Sif also engaged the Jotun’s. They were further away from him that he had thought. Much further. Gripping his sword, he turned and started to make his way towards them. It was stupid and insane, but he didn’t want to get separated from the group. It only took one call to Heimdall for them to be whisked off to Asgard, leaving Loki behind.

He kept to the shadows of the buildings, hoping that it would be enough to give him cover. He ducked behind some fallen ice, content that for now he was close enough not to be left behind. He saw Sif surrounded by a whole host of Jotun’s but was seemingly able to keep them at bay. Fandral was showboating, dancing around the Jotun’s, confusing them with his fast moves and sharp stabs with his sword. Hogun, was further back but was none the less fighting just a fiercely. But it was a yelp from Volstagg that caught Loki’s attention. The larger man huffed as he pushed a Jotun away from him, but he was cradling his right hand which had turned a burnt black colour.

“Don’t let them touch you!” he shouted, even as he fought off another Jotun. He was stumbling though, losing strength as the blackness spread up his arm. A Jotun managed to get a good blow in, sending the voluminous man down to his knees. Loki gripped his sword and was about to break cover to go to the man’s aid, when Sif intervened. Blocking the Jotun’s next strike, she shoved the ice blade away, following up with a stab to the being’s chest, then lobbing off its head.

“Thank you, my Lady, but I nearly had him” Volstagg breathed out as Sif turned to look at him. She shook her head.

“Of course, you did.” Before Volstagg could respond, their banter was cut short by a shout from Fandral. Loki startled, turning, only to gasp in horror. Fandral was impaled, the Jotun, now dead at his feet, having conjured the ice from a pool of water they had been standing in. Loki couldn’t restrain himself, he darted from cover.

“Fandral!” Loki yelled as he skidded to a stop beside the man, sword abandoned on the ice in favour of turning the injured warrior. Fandal had managed to free himself from the ice shard but was now prone on the ground. Vulnerable.

“Y…young Prince?” Fandral managed to cough out. “We told you to hide.”

“Shut up,” Loki snapped, tearing at the armour that had taken most of the impact. The shard had gone right through the flesh, leaving an entry and exit wound and they were bleeding badly. Loki bit his lip, before placing his hand over Fandral. Healing spells were complicated and shouldn’t be attempted by one of his limited knowledge. But he understood the basics and Fandral was going to die if he bled out.

However, the Frost Giants were not going to let him help that easily, they rounded on the nearly unconscious warrior and his small healer. Loki couldn’t even throw a spell, unable to halt the healing at that stage. Luckily Volstagg’s bellow announced his timely arrival to aid the pair.

“Young Prince Loki, you should not be here,” he called back to the youth. Loki would have retorted, but suddenly a Jotun, that had come around the other side of the fight pounced on him. Loki was swatted aside like a bug, sending him sprawling on the ice. He gasped, pain blossoming in his chest and along his side. He tried to get to his feet, but the Jotun was already on him. Cold fingers gripped his wrist, brushing along his skin. Loki winced, waiting for the inevitable pain, he had seen what had happened to Volstagg after all. But it never came. A grunt of confusion came from the Jotun, and Loki despite himself, looked. Instead of his hand turning a burnt black, it had gone blue, Frost Giant blue, with intricate scar like markings making part of the flesh raised.

Asgardian and Frost Giant simply stared, both either shocked, surprised or confused. Loki's thoughts were racing, even as he hung in the Giant’s grip. What was happening? Why was his hand blue? Why wasn’t he burning? Why did his skin look like that of a Frost Giants? The turbulence of his thoughts stopped at that. His skin was like a Frost Giants. A Frost Giants? No!

Loki’s Seidr boiled at his panic, responding to its master and lashing out at the closest source. The still stricken Frost Giant was sent flying with a blast of powerful green Seidr. Loki didn't know where he ended up, nor did he care. He clutched his now freed arm to his chest, breath coming in deep gasps as the blue stain on his skin receded, leaving nothing but normal pink flesh behind. The Young Prince’s mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t think, or gather his wits, he stood there. He was only shaken from his thoughts when a hand gripped his shoulder. Unable to hold in a shriek, he lashed out, only to come face to face with Hogan.

“Prince Loki, we must go.” Without another word the Vanir lifted Loki, swinging him on to his back and started to run. Loki would have protested, but he saw Volstagg helping Fandral, while Sif tried her best to keep the Frost Giants at bay.

They make for the exit of the plaza, beating back the Jotuns as they came.

“Thor,” Loki found his voice, hoping that it would be enough to distract his mind. “Where is my Brother.”

“Prince Loki,” Hogan started but got no further as a shout came from behind them.

“Come on!” Loki turned from his perch on Hogan’s back as the warrior himself paused briefly. Thor was stood, surrounded by dead Jotuns. Blood covering Mjolnir as he grinned cockily at Laufey.

The Frost King snarled, touching a wall beside him. A sudden rumble came from beneath their feet followed by a sharp crack of ice.

“That can’t be good,” Loki muttered.

“I quiet agree Young Prince,” Volstagg said. Another rumble came. The group looked beneath their feet, only to jump back at the shadows that were crawling beneath the ice.

“What is that?” Sit cried, sword up, but unsure of how it would be of use.

“It’s Frost Giants,” Hogan answered, dread and fear colouring his voice. “Thousands of them.”

Loki swallowed, Hogan was right. Beneath the ice was Frost Giants, digging their way up through the ice, answering the call of their King. The Young Prince did not hide his panic now, calling loudly.

“Thor, we must go!”

“Then go!” was his only answer. Loki blinked, to shocked to care that his Brother had thrown himself back into battle, unconcerned with the coming threat.

“There are to many of them!” it was Sif who shouted this, but even she was merely answered with.

“I can stop them!”

Thor’s figure disappeared into the swarming host of Jotuns. The Asgardian’s stood there, hesitant in what to do.

“We must run,” Volstagg’s words were met with anger.

“We can’t just leave him,” Sif argued but Volstagg shook his head.

“Fandral is severely injured,” he mentioned to their comrade, who was passed out on Volstagg shoulder. “I am not at full strength either. Plus, there is the Young Prince.” Sif’s expression soured at that, but with Hogan nodding in agreement, the group retreated.

They quickly tried to pick their way out of the plaza, but it was difficult with Volstagg so hindered with his injured arm and Fandral’s weight. Even when Sif was able to help him, it did nothing to speed up their progress. Hogan carried Loki as though he weighed nothing, jogging ahead to scout the area for any Jotun’s. Loki kept silent, eyes worriedly flicking back to where they had left Thor. Would he be ok? Was he dead? Why didn’t he come with them?

A great boom suddenly filled the air. The group stopped, turning back to where they had come in surprise.

“What was that?” Loki asked. No one answered him however as the ground beneath them shook before cracking open.

“The ice is breaking!” Volstagg shouted.

“Run, we need to out run it,” Sif yelled, gripping Fandral tightly as they started to escape. Loki was forced to grip Hogan’s shoulders as he raced out of the plaza. The cracking ice followed them, breaking the remaining buildings up into pieces and opening up crevices that looked down into the dark recesses below. As they finally began to out pace they ice, they were ambushed by yet more Jotun’s.

“Can’t they give us a break?” Volstagg asked. Instead of attacking, the Jotun’s opened their mouths, breathing out a thick mist with encircled the Asgardians, forcing them to a halt. Hogan tried to retreat a little, but at the crack of the ice beneath his boot he stilled.

“Don’t move, the ice could give.”                                 

Loki's grip on Hogan was white knuckled, he peered over his shoulder nervously, he wasn’t able to make out anything, even Fandral, Volstagg and Sif were hard to see, let alone the Jotuns. A whooshing sound filled the air and Thor was suddenly there, landing beside them with Mjolnir in hand.

“Thor,” Loki breathed out in relief at the sight of his Brother. Thor however barely looked at him.

“Can barely see a thing,” he muttered.

“What are we going to do Thor?” Sif asked. “We can’t fight in this.” Loki agreed, there was no possible way the warriors could fight in this mist. But he could do something about that.

“I’ll lift it,” he said, releasing his grip he waved his hand, eyes closing briefly in concentration before anymore could be said on the matter. It was a simple thing to conjure a breeze to blow the mist away, one of the first things his Mother had taught him when he began his lessons.

_“The elements will always answer you, my dear. You just need to know how to ask.”_

As the mist was swept away though something much worse took its place. Frost Giants. Hundreds upon hundreds if the frozen creatures stood before them. All armed to the teeth with the ice weapons, ready to finish off the Asgardians in a final assault.

“Actually, could we have the mists back?” Volstagg said, but no one answered his quip. Loki gasped at the sight, fear settling in his stomach.

“Thor,” he called to his Brother, but the God of Thunder did not answer him, just stared at the Jotuns a look of terror marrying his usually boisterous expression. That was when Loki’s fear solidified, and tears started to escape his eyes. There was to many of them, they were never going to make it out. He was going to die. He was never going to see his Mother again. A whimper escaped him unbidden, and he buried his face in Hogan’s back. He was scared.

The Frost Giants moved, coming in for the final kill. That was when the sky above them surged and the great beam of the Bifrost plunged onto the ice. The action was enough to halt the Frost Giants, but it was what was revealed when the rainbow beam dissipated that had them retreating.

Odin All-Father, sat aside his war horse Selpinir, dressed in full golden armour, Gungnir in his grip.  


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! Welcome back to the story! Hope your all enjoying it so far. I have to say I am loving the response the story has gotten, over 50 kudos! So happy. Any way thank you as always, please continue to read, kudo and comment, I'm really interested to know your thoughts, and where you might think the story is going. (Wink, Wink) 
> 
> Cheers! D.S X
> 
> P.S Back with an edit, let me know if you spot anything else for me XX

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 3 **

Loki couldn’t believe it. He thought for a moment that maybe he had passed out from the overwhelming fear and was dreaming. But the biting wind that nipped at his skin, and the hard muscle of Hogan’s shoulders beneath his fingers belayed that idea.

Selpinir grunted, releasing a high-pitched whinny. He reared on his hind legs, so four of the six limbs were up off the ice. They were slammed down, the crack which followed made even the Jotun’s flinch, parting before the King of Asgard in fear, as he urged his mount forward and towards where Loki, Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three stood.

“Odin,” the feral snarl from Laufey could be heard over the silence that had fallen at the All-Father’s arrival. Loki could only watch as he descended towards them, when at a respectful distance, he slammed his hand to the ground. The ice bubbled beneath his feet, raising up in a pillar, the Jotun King on top, so that he could come face to face with Odin.

The All-Father pulled Selpinir to a stop, the Jotun warriors shuffling away, creating a space around the two King’s. Though Loki, Thor and the others were close enough to hear them speak.

“Laufey, end this,” Odin’s voice was firm, confident, very much the King Loki knew him to be.

“Your boy sort this out,” Laufey said, nodding his head at Thor, who scowled, Mjolnir still in hand.

“You’re right,” Odin agreed, which made Thor’s scowl slip as he turned wide eyes to his Father. “These are the actions of a boy, treat them as such. You and I can stop this before there’s further bloodshed.”

“We are beyond diplomacy now, All-Father,” Laufey spat, red eyes narrowed as he growled at Odin. “He’ll get what he came for. War and death.” Loki shivered at the statement. It seemed to echo around the frozen Realm, announcing to all that war was looming ahead. Odin, stared at Laufey, and though to some his face would look impassive, Loki was sure he caught a glimpse of grim defeat.

“So be it,” he said, though the heavy words were swallowed up by an ice blade that was sent flying at Odin’s head. Loki gasped, unable to hold in his yell.

“Father!” he leaned forward, as though he was going to scramble from Hogan’s back. However, the Vanir’s grip on the Young Prince didn’t waver, pulling him down so he could hold him to his chest.

“Be still Prince Loki,” he said, though Loki was not content to listen to him.

“But -”

“Look.” Hogan nodded to the All-Father. Loki followed his gaze, surprised to see Odin had raised Gungnir easily using it to deflect the ice, shattering it instantly. Once the immediate threat was dealt with, he slammed the butt of the spear into the ice, cracking it. Suddenly a huge shockwave erupted from the point of contact, sending Jotun’s falling backwards. Even the Asgardian’s had to brace themselves against the impact. Loki was glad he was no longer on Hogan’s back, as he may very well have been sent flying. Laufey had managed to erect an ice wall, sparing him from ending up like most of his brethren. Though once the wave dissipated, he did not look happy.

Thor however, was ecstatic, he surged forward, face delighted.

“Now Father!” he shouted, coming to stand at Selpinir’s side, Mjolnir ready to make havoc. “We’ll finish them together!”

“Silence!” Odin didn’t shout the way Thor did, but his voice was stronger, deeper, betraying his anger. Gungnir was thrust into the sky, which opened up, the Bifrost slamming down to swallow up the Asgardian’s, taking them from Jotunheim and home.

Loki felt himself become atoms, flying through space at a speed that only Gods could withstand. However, as he rematerialized in the Observatory he wasn’t able to keep his feet, collapsing in on himself, only held up by Hogan. Once the warrior was sure Loki was steady, he stepped back to see to Fandral and Volstagg, both of whom had also collapsed, Fandral unconscious and Volstagg barely managing to hold in his moans as he clutched his blackened arm.

“Why did you bring us back?” Thor’s angry cry brought Loki’s attention to his Brother. Thor was stood before their Father, who had dismounted Selpinir, sending the six-legged horse back to the Rainbow Bridge.

Odin glared at his son, “do you realise what you have done? What you’ve started?”

“I was protecting my home.”

“You cannot even protect your friends,” Odin snapped, waving a hand at Sif and the Warriors Three. Sif was lifting Fandral, taking his whole weight, as Hogan was assisting Volstagg, who was finding it hard to stand. “How can you protect a Kingdom?” the All-Father turned to the warriors. “Get them to the healing room!” his order was instantly obeyed. The warriors hurrying out of the Observatory and back to Asgard. Loki thought about following them. His Father hadn’t made mention of him yet, he could possibly sneak away. He started to shuffle out.

“Loki Odinson, don’t you dare disappear,” Loki froze, glancing behind to see his Father’s scowl directed right at him. His remaining blue eye seemed to burn with an inner fire, one that was all too ready to explode.

“Father, I -”

“Be silent,” Loki clamped his tongue between his teeth. “I’ll deal with you later.” Loki hung his head but did as his Father ordered.

“Father,” Thor spoke, indignant rage radiating from him. “There won’t be a Kingdom to protect if you’re afraid to act.” He gripped his hammer tighter, lifting his chin to look down his nose at Odin. “Whatever the cost, the world must know that the new King of Asgard will not be held in contempt.”

“That’s pride and vanity that talks,” Odin hissed. “Not leadership! Have you forgotten everything I have taught you? What of a warrior’s patience, and cunning?” Loki would normally have made a smart remark. Probably along the lines that Thor had never shown either of those two traits, but he was to afraid. Afraid of his Father’s wrath, of what was happening before him. He had never seen his Brother and Father fight like this.

“While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us!” Thor roared. “The old ways are done. You’d stand giving speeches while Asgard falls!” Odin shook his head, taking a deep breath as he regarded his elder son.

“You’re a vain, greedy, cruel boy!”

“And you are an old man and a fool!”

Loki's gasp was the only thing to fill the silence. Thor continued to glare at his Father, while the elder lowered his eyes and sighed.

“A fool,” Odin’s voice was calm, but Loki could hear the terrifying anger that lurked beneath the surface. “Yes, I was a fool to think you were ready.”

Loki could only stand there, watching the scene that was quickly unravelling before him. Odin stepped closer to Thor, eyeing his eldest with a mixture of disappointment and rage.

“Thor Odinson …” the words seemed to echo around the Observatory, filled with power that made Loki’s teeth rattle. “You have disobeyed the express command of your King. Through your arrogance and stupidity, you have opened these peaceful Realms and innocent lives to the horrors of war.”

Odin slammed Gungnir onto the floor. A sudden shifting filled the air and Loki spun to see the Bifrost had started to come to life. He turned to the control panel, Heimdall was stood by it, but his sword was not in the complicated machinery. Indeed, the golden eyed Asgardian was watching proceedings with his usual detached expression, though Loki was sure he caught a furrow between his brows. The sound of the Bifrost firing cut through Loki’s observations. Turning back, he noticed the Bifrost portal had opened behind Thor, swirling angrily.

“You are unworthy of this Realm...” the statement was followed with Odin reaching out. The disk that sat in the middle of Thor’s breast armour, one that marked his allegiance to Asgard, was ripped away, landing before Odin with a clang. “...unworthy of your title...” Thor’s red cloak followed. “...unworthy of the loved ones you've betrayed.” Loki opened his mouth, as though he was going to argue that remark, but he found no words would come. He only stood there, helpless as Thor’s expression went from angry, to shocked, to scared. “I hereby take from you your powers.” With a swipe of his hand, Mjolnir went flying from Thor’s grasp it land in Odin’s. Thor stumbled, not expecting it, he could only gape opened mouthed at his Father, who continued on. “In the name of my father...” lightening sparked from Mjolnir, darting across the distance to hit Thor. Loki yelped, but the strike only disintegrated the chest piece of Thor’s armour, leaving the Thunderer unscathed “...and of his father before him...” another strike took the remainder of Thor’s armour, along with the ripped away cloak and disk on the floor. Odin thrust back his shoulders, puffing his chest as he looked down his nose at Thor, whose face was a picture of fear and confusion. He thrust Mjolnir forward and cried, “I cast you out!”

 

With a crack of thunder Thor was hurled backwards, falling into the open Bifrost, disappearing into the vortex, where he was whisked off to Norns knew where.

Loki couldn’t hold in his fear, running forward as though to throw himself into the Bifrost after his Brother. “Thor!” he shouted, his throat ripping as tears sprung into his eyes. His frantic pursuit was halted with a jerk, as his arm was grabbed. He turned to see Heimdall, golden gaze devoid of any understanding. “Let me go!” Loki spat, but Heimdall shook his head.

“I cannot allow that,” was all he said. Loki hissed, ready to fight his way free when Odin’s murmuring came to his ear.

“Whomever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.” Loki, tears streaming down his face, caught the sight of runes briefly glowing on the powerful hammer. But they quickly faded, and Odin pulled back his arm before throwing the hammer into the Bifrost, before it closed with a snap.

With the Bifrost gone, the fight died from Loki, he slumped in Heimdall’s grip, allowing the tears to run down his cheeks. It was as he stood crying a hand gripped his shoulder. Looking up through his wet vision, he flinched as the stony face of his Father glared down at him. “F…Father I -”

“No Loki,” Odin said, voice tight. “I don’t want to hear your words now.” A sigh escaped him, and he was pulled from Heimdall, though held in place by Odin as he marched him from the Observatory and out onto the Rainbow bridge, where Selpinir waited. “Your Mother and I will deal with you at home.”

***

“Do you have any idea how worried we were?!” Loki had never heard his Mother screech before, so he took the wisest option and stayed silent.

His Father had practically thrown him onto the back of Selpinir after he had banished Thor. Trotting back up to Asgard and to the Palace, not even stopping to acknowledge the citizenry, who watched them with curious looks. Once at the stables, Odin had handed off the warhorse, making sure to clamp his hand on his youngest shoulder, marching him into the Palace. The servants stared, some offering sympathetic smiles, but Loki was too nervous to return them, or even to argue with his Father. Eventually they reached the Royal quarters, where Odin slammed opened the door only for Loki to come face to face with a tearful Frigga.

“Loki!” she’d gasped, running to him, pulling him into a hug. For a moment, Loki indulged, but it wasn’t a moment later that Frigga pulled back and scowled at him. “What in the name of the Norns do you think you were doing?!”

And that was where Loki had been left, his Father retreating as his wife’s wrath rained down on his youngest son. Loki had simply stood there, nodding in the right places as his Mother scolded him, but his mind was completely unfocused.

Thor was gone. He’d seen him fall through the Bifrost, face scared and confused. Was he able to come back? Would he ever see him again? His worry kept only part of his mind occupied however, as the rest was consumed by the memory of his arm turning blue.

In the wake of the events of Jotunheim, it had slipped Loki’s mind, now though, it had resurged. Loki's clever mind running it over and over, revaluating it until he recalled the whole event with perfect clarity.

“Loki? Are you even listening to me?”

The Young Prince forced his thoughts away, turning a repentant face to his Mother.

“Of course, Mother,” he muttered, voice small, though it wasn’t as faked as he would have liked himself to believe. “I’m sorry.” Frigga sighed, her hands which had been on her hips relaxed. With a shake of her head, she held out her arms, an invitation which Loki took with vigour. He snuggled into his Mother’s warmth, allowing it to ease his mind, though he knew it wouldn’t last forever.

“I was so worried, sweetheart,” she whispered into his hair. “I thought I had lost you.”

“We lost Thor,” Loki whimpered.

“Your Brother will be fine,” Frigga said, though it did nothing to soothe Loki. “He is strong.”

“But -”

“Loki,” the Prince was pushed back, his chin tilted so he was looking into his Mother’s face. “Thor will be alright.” Not willing to argue with her, Loki nodded his head. A knock on the door broke the tender moment. “Come in.” Frigga called, easing her son away a little, though she kept an arm wrapped around his shoulders.

The door opened to reveal Erling, his scarred face puckered with worry. He was swiftly followed by another member of the Council of Nine, both looking harried and concerned.

“My Queen,” Erling hastily sketched a bow before continuing. “Is it true?”

Frigga raised an eyebrow. “Is what true, Erling.”

“That Prince Thor has been banished,” it was not Erling who answered, instead a younger man, a few centuries older than Thor, stepped up. Face hard as he stared openly hostile at the Queen.

Frigga straightened her back, squaring her shoulders. “It is what the All-Father has commanded, Councillor …?”

“Vern, my Queen,” the man supplied, unimpressed with Frigga’s deliberate slight at her lack of acknowledgement of him.

Frigga nodded, “as I said Councillor Vern, the All-Father, in his wisdom as King of Asgard has banished the Crown Prince. It is his punishment for attacking Jotunheim.” Loki could tell from the tightening of her lips, to her clipped tone that she was far from happy with Odin’s ruling, though she would never admit it before the Council.

“That seems quite a drastic course of action,” Vern said, to which Frigga frowned.

“You would rather we go to war?”

“Rather that than know toe to the Jotun’s,” Vern's words were savage, shocking Loki a little. Of course, he knew the common sentiment towards the Jotun. The Aesir hated the Jotunir. Fact. They were the foes of every tale, the vicious beast that ate innocent children if they wandered to far from home. For a moment the image of Loki’s skin turning blue flashed before his eyes. The same colour as the Jotun that had touched him. Loki hastily squashed it down, not wanting to think about it just then.

“Really?” Frigga asked, though the ring of sarcasm was detectable. “You would go against the orders of your King?”

Vern gaped, any words he wanted to say choking in his throat. “I…I -”

“Of course, the Council supports the decisions of the All-Father,” Erling smoothly interjected, stepping closer, while giving Vern a scolding look. “But it does not resolve the issue of the war declared by King Laufey.”

“The All-Father will no doubt have plans in motion to deal with that,” Frigga said, head high as she looked down her nose at the Councillors.

“We have no doubt,” Erling spoke before Vern could voice the displeasure that was etched over his face. “We will speak with him now.”

“Councillors,” Frigga nodded regally. The two councillors retreated, shutting the door with a snap. Frigga sighed.

“Mother?” Loki asked curiously. “Is something wrong?” Frigga shook her head, pasting on a smile.

“It’s nothing, just dealing with the Council is a task best left to your Father. How he has the patience to deal with them is beyond me.” Loki laughed, and Frigga beamed, but it was quickly wiped away, replaced with an admonishing expression.

“But now I think it’s time to talk about your punishment.” Loki winced, lowering his head.

“With the chaos of the coronation it will not be as lasting as I would like,” Frigga said, and Loki let out a discreate sigh of relief. “For now, you will be banished to your chambers. I don’t want to see you outside of them unless you are with your Father, myself or Alviss. Is that clear?”

“Yes Mother,” Loki agreed, and Frigga smiled at him.

“My good boy. Alviss.” At the call of his name, the Steward appeared, opening the door and bowing.

“My Queen.”

“Please take Prince Loki back to his room, though be sure to have him checked over by the healers first.”

“I’m fine Mother,” Loki tried to protest, but quailed when the Queen’s eyes fell on him.

“You will see Eir, even if it is just a check over. Is that understood?” Loki swallowed nervously but nodded.

“Yes Mother.” Frigga smiled.

“He is not to leave his chambers unless called or for meals,” she finished, to which Alviss bowed.

“Of course, my Queen. Young Prince,” the old Steward gestured, and Loki took that as a que to leave. With a final forlorn smile to his Mother, Loki left with Alviss.

As they walked down the corridor, the events of the past few hours finally caught up with Loki. His steps faulted, and a tiredness seeped into his bones, making them ache as he continued to follow Alviss.

“Is all well, Young Prince?” the Steward asked, matching his own stride to that of his young master’s. Loki shook his head.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Of course,” Alviss nodded, but said no more of the subject. Loki respected that about the Asgardian. Alviss must have been privy to what had happened, he was a trusted member of the House of Odin. Had served the All-Father longer than Loki or even Thor had been alive. He must have known about what the Princes had done.

“How many people know about Thor?” Loki asked, his curiosity outweighing his need to keep family business to himself. Alviss glanced back at the boy.

“The citizenry remains ignorant, though there is talk among the nobles. The Warriors Three and Sif were seen heading to the healing room.” Loki winced. For the warriors to be seen, beat up and without Thor, that alone would be enough to get tongues wagging. “The Council of course has been informed.”

“Do you think it will happen?” Loki muttered. “That there will be war?” Alviss paused, halting in his stride to eye the Young Prince.

“I have hope that the All-Father will do all he can to avoid that outcome. The next generation do not deserve to know the horrors of war.” Loki shivered. Alviss looked older than the Prince had ever seen him, with eyes that seemed haunted with images that Loki could not comprehend. For the first time Loki wondered if Alviss had fought. All Asgardians learned to fight, it was a part of their culture, but it had never once crossed Loki’s mind that Alviss could have fought in a war.

A hand settled on Loki’s shoulder, startling him from his thoughts. “All will be well, Young Prince. You will see.” Loki tried to smile, but it seemed more of a grimace. They headed off once again, moving through the more open areas of the Palace. The Healing Hall was a public place, where the guards and other visiting nobles were able to receive treatment by the Palace Healers. Loki had been their plenty of times in his young life, for scrapes, falls and once a broken arm when he had tried to climb the wall that surrounded his Mother’s garden.

As they neared the entrance, voices trickled out to meet them.

“We should never have let him go,” Volstagg’s voice came, sounding pained.

“There was no stopping him,” that was Sif, who sounded less than pleased with Volstagg’s obersation.

“At least he was only banished,” Loki was surprised to hear Fandral, though happy that the dashing swordsman was healed enough to be awake. “Which we’d all be if Odin hadn’t arrived when he did.”

“How did he even know?” Volstagg asked, to which it was answered by a giggle.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Amora,” Sif growled, and Loki could just imagine the warrior woman reaching for her sword.

“Peace, I just thought you would have heard. Prince Loki left a note, placed under a rather clever enchantment, which was picked up by the Palace staff.” Loki stiffened, turning to Alviss who’s face had stiffened.

“The Young Prince?” Vostagg said. “I had thought it would be Heimdall.”

“The Gatekeeper had more reason to keep this secret,” Hogun muttered. “He was going against the King’s command.”

“Why would the Prince do that?”

“Why was he even there is more the question,” Sif’s tone was hostile, and Loki could picture her scowling at the mere thought of him.

“Perhaps a better one was why Warriors, who have been said to be the best of their generation take it into their head to go to a banned Realm, going against the direct order of their King.”

Loki startled at the sound of Alviss’s voice. The Steward, in Loki’s distraction had continued with his progress and was now standing in the entry way to the Healing Hall, shoulders squared and face impassive. Loki crept up behind him, peering around his taller form to take in Sif, Amora and the Warriors Three. Four out of the five occupants of the room appeared shocked, though Sif was more defiant.

“Alviss,” she inclined her head at the older Asgardian, before settling her gaze on Loki. “Prince Loki.”

“Young Prince,” Volstagg cried, sitting up in the bed he was in. Loki smiled at the him, giving him a small wave.

“Are you well, Volstagg?” Loki asked, to which the warrior waved a dismissive hand.

“It will take more than a Frost Giant to take down Volstagg the Voluminous.” Fandral cackled from his own bed, while Hogan rolled his eyes. Amora however was leaned against the wall, having come in from one of the other rooms. As Alviss and Loki stepped further into the Healing Hall she cleared her throat.

“Are you injured Young Prince?” she asked, tone gentle and coxing.

“My Mother wanted me to be checked over by Eir,” Loki answered. Sif snorted.

“You hardly fought.”

“Which is a blessing,” Alviss said with a hard look the dark-haired woman’s way. “I shudder to think the wrath of the All-Father if his younger son had been injured severely.” Sif glared at the man, but Alviss ignored her, steering the Prince further into the room. “Is Eir here?”

“She stepped out to see to a patient in the citizenry Healing Wing,” Amora shrugged. Alviss sighed.

“I will retrieve her,” he turned to Loki. “Please stay here Young Prince, you know your Mother’s orders.” Loki nodded and Alviss left. An awkward moment passed before Fandral spoke.

“You left a note?” Loki hesitated before nodding. “Why?”

“I wasn’t about to go to a hostile Realm and not tell anyone. I enchanted it -”

“Not well enough,” Sif scoffed. Loki scowled.

“Would you rather have been left on Jotunheim to die?” he snapped. Sif grunted, but didn’t answer, instead she fixed Loki with a piercing look.

“Loki, you know you are the only one that can help Thor now. You must go to the All-Father and get him to change his mind.” Loki gaped.

“Excuse me?”

“Thor must return to Asgard,” Sif said, head high. “It is unjust that he was banished. The Frost Giants -”

“And if the Young Prince does as you ask, then what?” Amora cut off the other woman with a sneer. “He loves Thor more dearly than any of you, he obviously has already spoken to the All-Father and All-Mother on his behalf. But Thor was reckless, dangerous even. From what I have heard even when he discovered his younger brother was on Jotunheim, he did not retreat. In fact, he engaged in a brawl, leaving the underage Prince defenceless.” Amora placed a hand over her heart. “Even though I love Thor, behaviour like that must be punished.”

“You weren’t even there Amora,” Sif snarlee. Amora sniffed.

“I would never have allowed Thor to place me in that position. I would have advised him against such actions, as any loyal … friend would have done.” Sif looked ready to beat the other woman, but they were all saved from breaking up a fight by the timely arrival of Alviss and Eir.

“What is going on here?” the Healer said, sharp eyes taking in the scene. “This is a Healing Hall, not a training yard. If you’re well enough to fight, you’re well enough to leave.” She shot a look at Sif and Amora. Both women glared one last time at each other, before Amora stalked out, and Sif sat down with a glower. Loki would have laughed, but Eir’s eyes fell on him. “Prince Loki, Alviss says you are here for a check over, after your foolish actions with these irresponsible warriors.” Loki swallowed. He nodded, and he was sure he caught a grin twitching at Eir’s lips. “Let’s have a look at you then.”

The elder Asgardian woman was quick to set on Loki, dragging the Young Prince through a battery of tests and checks. Loki allowed it, not willing to fight with Eir. It was a battle he would lose. As he was subjected to the mild torture, he caught a few snatches of the muttered conversation between Sif and the Warriors Three.

“…Jealous of Thor…”

“…Should be grateful…”

“Laufey said there were traitors in the House of Odin.”

Loki frowned at the last comment. It was a strange thing for the Frozen King to say, something that opened a world of possibilities that Loki shuddered to think of. Loki didn’t get to eavesdrop on any more of their conversation however, as Eir declared herself satisfied with Loki’s health. She dismissed the Prince, who was escorted out by Alviss. He glanced back at the Warriors Three and Sif. He expected the venomous look from the female, but the furrowed brows of the others confused him. He didn’t ponder on it however as Alviss led him out and towards his own quarters.            

They reached the Prince’s chambers and Alviss was soon bidding Loki a good evening, shutting the door after him, leaving Loki alone within his chambers. Loki stood there a moment, seeming lost, unsure of what to do in his own space. After some hesitation he started stripping his makeshift travel clothes. He piled them on the floor, the maids would clean them up on the morrow. As he reached the underclothes, Loki couldn’t help but stop and stare at his arm. It looked so normal, unblemished, a state which he knew should have been impossible, after all Volstagg’s skin had blacken when touched by the Jotun. So why hadn’t Loki’s?

Scowling, Loki crossed to his desk, seeing the two notes on the table, he snarled, throwing them both away. He reached for more parchment, dragging his chair over and sitting. He snatched up a quill then began to furiously write.

_Arm?_

_Why didn’t it blacken?_

_Seidr?_

_Shapeshifting? (Mother talked of it once, can I shapeshift? Possibly make next project?)_

_What does this mean?_

And that was the crux of it really. If Loki’s arm could turn like that of a Jotun’s, instead of being damaged like any other Asgardian’s, what did it mean? He hadn’t used any Seidr in that moment. To distracted and frightened to call it up. So, Seidr was scratched off the list. Shapeshifting was something he had never tried before. Of course, he had read about the theory, but his Mother had said that most Shapeshifters had a natural talent. It wasn’t something that was easily accomplished by Seidr alone. That meant, unless Loki could conduct more experiments, Shapeshifting was out. What did that leave?

“If only I could do it again,” Loki muttered, leaning back in his chair to stare up at the ceiling. It was not something that he would particularly like to do, but in order to find an answer, it would be the best thing to recreate the incident. But getting a Jotun was completely out of the question. Even if they wouldn’t just kill him on sight, getting to Jotunheim would be impossible now. So, what could Loki do?

“It was cold,” Loki mumbled, speaking aloud to get his racing thoughts into some sort of order. “Maybe cold? No, nothing is as cold as a Jotun. They’re frozen beings, they’re -” Loki stopped, eyes widening. He jerked forward hands slamming on the top of his desk in his excitement.

“Frozen. The casket.” The Casket. How could Loki have forgotten about the Casket? It was what had started this whole mess in the first place. The Jotun’s wanted it, it was a sacred artefact of their Realm. If there was anything that was similar to a Jotun, it would be their relic.

Standing, Loki was ready to hurtle out of his chambers and to the Vault, but at the sight of the shut door he faltered. His Mother said that he couldn’t leave his chambers, it was his punishment and if there was one thing that scared Loki it was crossing his Mother. He bit his lip. But, he really wanted to go. No, not wanted, needed, he needed to go to the Vault, he needed answers.

Tramping down on his urge to rush out of the chamber, Loki stripped the last of his clothes, changing into his more comfortable night ware. Sinking down onto his bed, Loki lay on top of the covers and thought. He had to come up with a plan, if he was going to break his Mother’s punishment, he wanted to be able to get away with it.

First things first, he would need to enact the plan quickly. His Mother would not expect him to go against her words so soon, but in a couple of days, his Mother would no doubt start looking for signs of rebellion. Second, he would need to avoid the servants. They would report they had seen him and that would destroy any chance of Loki getting away with sneaking into the Vault. So, his best chance was at night, less servants and need to conceal himself through invisibility. He briefly considered Heimdall but dismissed it. The Gatekeeper would be busy, keeping an eye on the Jotun’s and Thor to pay much attention to what Loki was doing. Finally, there was getting into the Vault itself. Loki had never been in there, Father had forbidden it, stating the relics it housed were to dangerous for a young boy. So, Loki had no idea of what enchantments there would be on the doors, the Vault itself, or even in the corridors leading to it. Loki would just have to chance his own Seidr and hope it was enough.

With a plan in place, Loki shuffled up and got into bed. He wouldn’t be able to make his move for a few hours yet, and he didn’t want to make anyone suspicious by remaining on top of his covers. He fought off sleep by imaging the state Thor might be in. Loki hoped his Elder Brother was alright, that he hadn’t hurt himself wherever he had been sent. Hopefully he wouldn’t do anything too reckless. As night came over Asgard, Loki started to get restless. His door had opened during that time, and Loki had had a hard time keeping still and his breath even as his Mother checked on him. Luckily, she had only pulled the covers a little away from his face, before kissing his head and leaving quietly.

Loki endured for a few more hours, until it was past midnight. Not able to hold it in any longer, Loki leaped into action. Getting out of bed, he slipped on a pair of boots, slinging on a robe to keep off the chill of the night. He crossed to the door, easing it open so he could poke his head around it. No one was there. Stepping out, he closed the door quietly, then started on his journey to the Vault.

With a few ducks to avoid servants, Loki was surprised to find his journey was a smooth one. He would have expected more people walking the hallways, Asgardians were known for their lavish feasts that went on well into the early hours. But he supposed that with Thor’s banishment, no one was in the mood for celebrating. He turned down a corridor, but quickly had to step back to avoid the gaze of the guards that stood outside the imposing door to the Vault. Taking a breath to steady his racing heart, Loki carefully peered around. The two, armour covered Asgardian’s were leaned on their spears, chatting quietly as they waited for their shift to be over. Loki could tell with the way they were slumping against their weapons that their shift must be close to an end. Perfect, Loki thought with a mischievous smile.

Calling Seidr to his hand, he tossed it back behind him. It hit one of the many decorations that adored the walls of the Palace, sending it crashing to the floor.

“What was that?” one of the guards asked, before footsteps rushed up to where Loki waited. Casting his invisibility spell over himself, Loki stepped back as the guards raced passed him. Once the way was clear, he darted forward to the Vault doors. He kept his Seidr ready for any enchantments he would have to rip through, but surprisingly Loki felt nothing. Even when he touched the great doors, carved with runes that Loki had no chance of deciphering. Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Loki gripped the handle and pulled, just enough to slip his small frame through and into the Vault itself.

As the door closed Loki was plunged into semi darkness, the only bright spots the ancient relics that glowed with their inner power. Loki shivered, swiftly flicking his wrist to light the torches that lined the walls. The Young Prince instantly felt better as light filled the chamber, it chased away his worries, though his anxiety still simmered beneath the surface. Stealing himself, Loki began his walk through the Vault, glancing at the many treasures that resided in the most secret area of Asgard’s Palace.

A golden glove sat on one pedestal along with a large cauldron like object that Loki swore he could feel heat coming from. But neither of those things were what Loki sort, he kept walking, heading further into the Vault.

He felt it before he saw it, a creeping cold that, while uncomfortable, didn’t disturb Loki as much as he thought it would. As he rounded another of the many pedestals he saw it. Bathed in cold blue light, it sat innocently atop its pedestal, a lone rectangular box that emitted more frost than Loki had ever felt in all his years on Asgard.

The dark-haired Prince stalked forward, his feet planting as he stared at the object. He didn’t know what he had been imaging, something large, imposing, as big as the Jotun’s themselves. Instead the Casket of Ancient Winters would fit easily in Loki’s hands. He almost thought he must have the wrong relic, but the deep cold radiating from its core was enough to dispel that notion.

Loki swallowed, now he stood before it, the Prince wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through with his experiment. He was positive it would illicit some reaction but would the conformation of that give him answer that he wanted to hear? Shaking his head, Loki pushed aside his fear. He had to know, he just had to.

Shuffling closer, Loki ascended the small step that would put him eye level with the Casket. This close Loki could make out the faint designs etched in to the glowing blue object, along with the silver embossed handles that would make it easier for Loki to grasp. Licking his lips, Loki's hands trembled as he reached out, but before he could even touch the object his skin had already started to change. It climbed up his arm like a stain, turning his usual pink skin an azure blue. Loki could only watch fascinated, his skin wasn't just changing colour, scar like designs were also emerging, twisting around his wrists in patterns Loki had no clue of their meaning.

“Stop!” Loki flinched, turning at the sharp voice that called to him from behind. Odin was stood there, face cast in shadow as he took in his young son, blue hands clenching as his breath started to come in panicked gasps.

“What am I?” Loki wasn’t sure if he was directing the question at his Father, or himself. Odin’s usually stoic face cracked a little, looking pained as Loki stared down at him.

“You’re my son,” he answered, but Loki wasn’t about to take that as the answer. He had changed not only with the Casket, but when he had been touched by the Jotun. As far as he knew he couldn’t shapeshift, nor could Seidr produce a result such as this. That only left one last option. Tears pricked at his eyes, as he took a step away from the Casket to confront his Father.

“What more than that?” he asked, voice small and about to break. Odin said nothing and something inside Loki snapped. “What am I?!” His Seidr responded, whipping around him to send some of the relics tumbling from their posts. Odin’s one eye widened as Loki bared his teeth and snarled. “Why can I turn into a monster?!”

“Loki,” Odin said, voice hard as he took a step closer. “Don’t you dare say something like that.” Loki laughed hysterically.

“But what else can I say? Seidr can’t do this, I can’t shapeshift, what other explanation can there be?” Odin dropped his gaze, unable to hold the sorrowful green eyes that demanded truth from him.

“It was over a hundred years after the war with the Frost Giants,” Odin began, voice sombre. “I had already taken their Casket, condemned them to a Realm they could not leave. Nor receive any brings from other Realms.” He licked his lips. “Heimdall summoned me. He had seen something, something which he thought I should know. As I stood in the Observatory he showed me a familiar sight. The temple, the one I had taken the Casket from all those years ago, now just a forgotten ruin. Only that was not quiet so.” Odin stopped and looked at Loki. “I saw a baby. Small for a Giants offspring. Abandoned. Left to die. Laufey’s son.”

Loki squeaked, “Laufey’s son,” he muttered, horror as well as anger starting to fill his heart. He choked on another sob. “Why? You already had the Casket. You had left the Frost Giants to themselves. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent.”

“No!” Loki angrily denied, even as more tears spilled down his cheeks. “You had a purpose. Mother always says so. Why else would you take me when I’m the monster parents tell their children about at night! I -” the rest of Loki’s words were cut off as he was suddenly embraced in a tight hug. He was confused as he felt his Father’s thick golden robes rubbing against his face, swallowing up the tears that continued to flow.

“Oh, my Loki, my son. I’m so sorry,” Odin mumbled into his hair. Loki’s hands twitched, as though unsure as to whether to push Odin away or embrace he in turn. “I may have had plans, but they no longer matter.”

“Why?” Loki asked again, and Odin sighed.

“I could not leave you there, the minuet I saw you I knew that you were the reason I had never been blessed with another son. I broke my own laws that day,” Loki gasped, glancing up at Odin who smiled slightly at him. “I ordered Heimdall to set the Bifrost down right before the temple. When I went inside you were crying, but as soon as I held you.” Odin paused, lost in memory. “You smiled at me, unafraid and so calm. You changed skins right then and there.”

Loki's eyes widened at those words. “I shapeshifted? Really?” Odin chuckled.

“Yes, my son. A feat you thankfully have not yet managed to recreate yet. Who knows how much mischief you would get up to with that ability in your arsenal.” Loki couldn't help but giggle a little, but it soon dispersed as the reality of the situation came back.

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning. From birth. Why didn’t you?”

“You are my son,” Odin’s arms tightened around Loki’s small frame. “My blood. It does not matter you were born a Frost Giant. As for not telling you, you are still but a child. I had hoped to explain this to you when you were older. So, you would not feel different.”

“But I’ve always felt different,” Loki mumbled, resentment heavy in his tone.

“Loki,” Odin started, but the boy wasn’t listening, to lost in his own head. So much so he didn’t notice the dark circles that had started to bloom under Odin’s eyes, nor how he stumbled slightly.

“You always favoured Thor,” Loki went on to say, the hurt he’d been nursing bubbling up, spewing from between his lips and at Odin, who was fading quickly. “I understood, he’s older, the Crown Prince. But you never speak to me, never ask after me. You don’t like that I prefer Seidr to battle. And that’s not my fault, I can’t help what I’m good at.”

“I -” Odin tried to speak, but couldn’t, instead he stumbled, toppling away from Loki, who could not hold his weight. The Young Prince yelped, as the All-Father collapsed onto the cold floor of the Vault, Loki was barely fast enough to stop him from cracking his head against the hard stone.

“Father!” Loki called out in panic, small hands gently shaking at the King’s shoulders to wake him. “Father? Father! Wake up! Please! Daddy!”

Odin didn’t respond, his breath heavy as he laid there, all but comatose on the floor. Loki took a shake breath, before he let loose a wild scream. “Help! Somebody help!”


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! So welcome back to the story and the fourth chapter of this thing! As always thank you to everyone who is reading and leaving Kudos and comments. I hope your all enjoying this thing as much as I am writing it. We all need to add a little more kid Loki to our lives now that we may only get to see him on the future Disney streaming service.
> 
> Thanks again! 
> 
> Cheers! D.S X
> 
> P.S Edited! Yay!

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 4 **

“You know, for a crazy homeless guy, he’s pretty cut.”

“Darcy!”

“What? I’m just saying.”

Thor ignored the two Midgardians as he emerged into the main chamber of their dwelling. He fingered the thin material in his hands. It was nothing like his usual tunic and leathers, certainly unsuitable for any kind of hunting, but the Midgardian, Jane he believed her name was, had graciously given it to him. And Thor was not one to say no to a kind gesture.

He had been surprised by the Midgardians. They had knocked him over with some sort of machine which they used to get around. They had not had such things when last the Asgardians had tread on their soil. They had lived in basic huts and worshiped the Asgardians as gods. It was a common belief among the other Realms that Midgard was a backwater world, with beings that could barely live passed a century. It was one of the reasons Odin had banned the other Realms from Midgard. They could be easily influenced this early in their development.

Though now it seemed they had come on quiet a bit in the last thousand years. The younger female had also shot lightening at Thor. Such a thing should not have been possible for a Midgardian to do, but the small black device had done it as easily as Thor when he had Mjolnir. Thor had not been prepared for it, his mortal body not helping, shutting down and rendering him unconscious.   

He rolled his shoulders as he slid the garment on. He ached in places he had long forgotten should feel pain. His warrior training and natural Asgardian physiology granting him an advantage. But his Father had turned him mortal. That thought was enough to shatter any confidence Thor had managed to gain since landing on Midgard. He was banished. Mortal. For how long he did not know. Would he be forced to live out a mortal life? To live, settle and die never returning to the golden halls of Asgard? Never to see his Mother or Brother again.

The thought of his younger Brother brought an image to Thor’s mind. The last time he had seen Loki. Stood frightened and confused as he had fallen through the Bifrost. He still couldn’t believe Loki had followed him to Jotunheim. What had he been thinking? Didn’t he know how dangerous the place was? Their Father had banned travel there for a reason.

And doesn’t that just make me a hypocrite, Thor thought with a sigh. He wandered over to one of the many tables that were scattered around the room, hoping the interesting objects would be enough of a distraction from his sombre thoughts. Casually he picked something up. It was bulky, with metal pieces sticking out of it, as well as a casing that hid bundles of wires and other things Thor had no understanding of. He turned it in his hand, pulling at the pieces, almost ripping one clean off.

“Excuse me. Excuse me!” the object was suddenly jerked from his hand. Thor looked up to see the Midgardian, Jane, placing the device back on the table before hooking his elbow and steering him away. As they stopped near another desk, Jane’s eyes widened before ripping something that had been attached to Thor’s borrowed garment off. “My ex,” Thor stared at her uncomprehendingly. “They’re the only clothes I had that’ll fit you. Sorry.” Thor frowned, confused, but nodded his head.

“They will suffice,” he said, turning away from Jane, who smiled in relief. His own attention however was taken up by familiar images that had been placed on a board near the desk. The distorted pictures of the Bifrost was something Thor had never seen, but he knew exactly what it was. He could even see a shadow of his own image, caught up in the racing matter that brought him to this Realm.

“You’re welcome,” Jane said, stepping up to Thor’s side, eyes intent. “Now tell me,” she pointed at one of the images Thor was staring at. “What were you doing in that?” Thor raised an eyebrow at her. Did this mortal not know what the Bifrost was? He was sure that the Midgardians had stories from when they had last visited.  

He shrugged, “What does anyone do in the Bifrost?” Jane blinked, brow furrowing. She quickly reached for a book and a device Thor was sure was the Midgardian equivalent to a quill and began to write furiously. The other female, Darcy, Thor believed she was named, merely tilted her head, confusion clearly written on her features.

“The Bifrost …” Thor glanced to the final member of the Midgardians that had found him. He was an older man, with salt and pepper and a lined face. He was named Selvig, a name which sounded familiar to Thor’s tongue. He was not frowning, instead he was staring at Thor with a look that was both suspicious and maybe a little unnerved.

“What exactly is the Bifrost?” Jane asked before Thor could study the mortal further. He opened his mouth to answer her, but a pained grumble from his stomach stopped that plan short.

“This mortal form grows weak,” he mumbled, walking passed Jane and the other Midgardians. “I require sustenance,” he announced his need to them, hoping they would lead him to food. After all, how could he begin to search for a way home if he was too weak to do so.

***

The Midgardians had been able to stop Thor before he could march out of the dwelling in search for his own food. They had bundled him to the metal machine which had mowed him down and taken him to the Midgardian village close to where he had landed. It was an empty place, with little buildings and even residents. A desert surrounded it, stretching off for miles in every direction, Thor wondered if all of Midgard was this empty. Jane had led the group into one of the buildings, sitting Thor down at a table before disappearing. Thor had been confused, that is until she had reappeared with a tray, piled with sweet smelling food. Thor had set on it ravenously, stuffing the meats and eggs into his mouth barely stopping to chew. He polished off one plate, turning to Jane demanding another. The Midgardian woman, who had been watching the display in stunned horror, merely nodded, coming back once more with food, which Thor set upon.

The Thunderer was unsure of how many plates he eventually ate, but finally, he finished chewing on a soft fluffy flat cake thing, which Darcy called a pancake, smothered with something called syrup. Once the last of it was mopped up, he pushed the plate away and sat back, sighing contentedly.

“That was good,” he said, to which Darcy snorted.

“It ought to be, we spent nearly seventy bucks,” she muttered, but was quickly shushed by Jane.

“Now you’re fed,” she said, book out before her on the table, quill in hand. “Tell us exactly what happened to you last night.” Thor looked at her, intrigued. She was nosey for a Midgardian. From what he knew of them, mortals had little understanding of other Realms, having been cut off from them for so long, but Jane seemed to be searching for answers. Why would she have pictures of the Bifrost if not?

Jane’s cheeks began to redden as Thor continued to stare at her. “M…maybe you could start with how you got in that cloud.” Thor didn’t answer, giving Darcy a chance to make a comment, dragging Jane into another conversation. He reached for the beverage they had placed before him. It was a dark black colour, steaming hot. Throwing back his head he downed the contents. A bitter taste burst onto his tongue, it would have been too much, but it was swiftly followed by a sweet sensation, which made the liquid easier to digest. Thor clutched the cup, looking into the now empty depths.

“This drink, I like it! Another!” with practised ease he smashed the cup on the floor. Thor was surprised to see it shatter, was it not made of bronze like those of Asgard? The Midgardians he was with jumped, along with some of the others which were sat around them. A shout in another of the Midgardian languages filled from room. Jane was quick to stand, gathering the broken pieces together, apologising.

Once the situation was calmed, Jane glared at Thor, “what was that?” she asked, to which Thor frowned.

“It was delicious, I want another.”

“Then you should have just said so!” Thor blinked, unsure why Jane was making such a fuss.

“I just did.” Jane continued to grumble, so Thor thought it best to apologise and go along with what she wanted, he didn’t want to offend the Midgardians that were caring for him. Not when he was weak.

As they settled once again, and Jane began her questioning, Thor let his mind wander. He thought of how his Mother had probably taken the news of his banishment. She was most likely disappointed in his behaviour, but he was just doing what he thought was best for Asgard. The Jotun had invaded their home, tried to take back the Casket, which they would surely have used against other innocent Realms. Why couldn’t his Father understand that he was simply seeking to protect his home, his family?

It was as he pondered this Thor noticed that Jane was no longer questioning him. Instead her and Selvig were looking over their shoulders, listening to a conversation of another male Midgardian and the owner of the establishment.

“What crater?”

“They’re saying some kind of satellite crashed down in the desert.” The male Midgardian said before groaning. “We were having a good time with it, until the Feds turned up and chased us off.”

“Excuse me,” Jane interrupted, leaning forward over the back of her chair in interest. “Did you say there was a satellite crash?” The male Midgardian nodded.

“Yep. They said it was radioactive, and I had my hands all over it.” All of a sudden his face paled and he glanced to his hands in horror. “I’m probably sterile now!”

“What did the satellite look like?” Selvig asked, cutting through the man’s ranting.

“I don’t know nothing about satellites,” the Midgardian finally answered, frowning. “But it was heavy, real heavy. No one could lift it.” Thor perked up at those words, them ringing familiar to his ears. He sprang from his seat, marching across the distance to the male Midgardian, grabbing him by the shoulder to pull him round to face him.

“Where?” Thor demanded. The man swallowed, nervous at the Asgardian’s close contact.

“About twelve miles east of here,” Thor grinned, spinning to stalk out the door. “I wouldn’t bother, looked like the whole army was coming in when we left.” Thor ignored him, walking out the door. He glanced up at the sky, studying the sun. He needed to get his bearings.

“Thor,” the Prince looked behind him to see Jane, Darcy and Selvig had followed him. “Where are you joining.”

“Twelve miles east of here,” Thor simply answered, which had Darcy and Selvig gaping.

 “Why?” Jane asked, and Thor smiled.

“To get what belongs to me.”

“So now you own a satellite,” Jane scoffed.

“It’s not what they say it is.”

“Whatever it is, the government seems to think it's theirs.” Jane pointed out, crossing her arms. “You intend to just walk in there and take it?

“Yes,” Thor stated it, seeming to shock his new Midgardian companions. As he glanced around, he came to the realisation that he had no real idea of where he was. The sun could lead him to the site he desired eventually, but it would be better to have someone to serve as a guide. He turned back to the group. “If you take me there now, I'll tell you everything you wish to know.”

 

It got the desired effect from Jane, as her eyes sparkled, and she leaned closer. “Everything?” Thor nodded.

 

 **“** All the answers you seek will be yours, once I reclaim Mjolnir.”

 

Darcy frowned, furrowing her brow in confusion. "Myeu-muh? What's "Myeu-muh?"

 

No one answered her, Jane to busy studying Thor. As she opened her mouth to answer, Selvig gripped her elbow. “Jane.” He pulled her a short distance away. Good enough not to be heard, if Thor was a Midgardian.

 

“Please don't do this,” were Selvig’s opening words.

 

“You know what we saw last night,” Thor heard Jane argue. “This can't be a coincidence. I want to know what's in that crater.”

 

“I'm not talking about the crater. I'm talking about him.” Thor frowned at that. He had done nothing to Selvig, why would he be suspicious of him?

“He's promised us answers.”

 

“He's delusional!” Thor almost growled at that, only keeping quiet as he did not want to draw Darcy’s attention, who was busy on the small, black device she always seemed to keep on her person. Thor had wondered if it was some form of weapon, but the woman had yet to use it for anything but going on something she called Facebook. “Listen to what he's saying! "Thor." "Bifrost." "Mjolnir." These are the stories I grew up with as a child!” Thor tilted his head. So Selvig was a native of where the Asgardian’s had once landed in the past. No wonder he was familiar with his name.

“I'd just be driving him out there,” Jane tried one last time, sounding desperate. “That's all.” Selvig sighed.

“It's dangerous. He's dangerous.” Silence followed but Thor didn't need to hear more as Jane and Selvig came back towards them. The man satisfied, while Jane seemed defeated.

 

“I'm sorry. I can't take you.” Thor was disappointed but did not let it show.

“I understand,” he said. “Then this is where we say goodbye.” Stepping close he took Jane’s hand, kissing it like he would any lady of the court.

 

“That's... thank you,” Jane stammered, blushing a little. Thor smiled, he couldn't help but think the blush suited the woman. He bowed to Selvig and Darcy.

 

“Jane Foster... Erik Selvig...Darcy. Farewell.” Turning on his heel he headed off down the street. He had a mission now. He was positive the ‘satellite’ was Mjolnir. She was his ticket home, if he could just find her, he was sure his powers would be restored. Hopefully he would be able to procure a horse from somewhere.

***

The tears had long since dried, and Loki was now slumped against the wall. He had been waiting outside his parent’s private quarters for several hours. When Odin had collapsed, Loki’s screams had alerted the guards. With the help of the Einherjar they had escorted the King to his chambers, to be met by a frantic looking Frigga. Loki had been lost in the whirlwind, forced from the chamber as Eir had arrived with her assistants. He’d broken down then, everything finally becoming to much and he’d sobbed until his throat felt raw.

Lifting his knees to hug them to his chest, Loki buried his face into them. He was a Frost Giant. Fa … Odin had confirmed it. Loki shakily glanced at his usual pale flesh. He didn’t feel any different. Even though he knew the skin he wore was a lie, it felt so natural, so right. How could that be, when he knew logically, that that was not so.

A creak of a door opening had Loki’s head snapping up. Eir stepped from the chamber, her assistants hot on her heels. She glanced at the Young Prince, offering a small smile of sympathy.

“It’s alright to go in now,” she spoke softly. Loki didn’t move, green gaze watching as Eir retreated, her assistants sending him curious looks from over their shoulders. With shaking limbs, Loki pushed his way to his feet. He took a step forward, but for some reason he was reluctant to walk in. Why should he go in there? Odin wasn’t his …

“Loki?” the Young Prince startled at the Queen’s call. “Loki?” Automatically Loki followed the voice.

He’d not been in Odin and Frigga’s bed chamber in many years, not since he had been a very young child. It was a large space, with a bed that dominated most of the room, a shimmering golden dome that Loki knew was made of Seidr crowned the bed, the bed which now housed the All-Father. Floor to ceiling windows were on the right that looked out over Asgard. A dresser was by one wall, along with a desk and two wardrobes. But Loki’s attention was taken up by Frigga, who had stood from the chair that was pulled up to the bed, where Odin lay.

The Queen took one look at Loki, seeing the tears tracks and red eyes. With no hesitation she crossed the room and pulled Loki into a hug.

“Oh, my son. My little Loki,” she murmured into his hair, stroking a hand through the raven locks. Loki stiffened in her embrace, not sure if to return it or not. It felt much like how Fa … Odin had last embraced him. Tight and desperate, as though he had been afraid Loki would disappear.

“Did you know?” Loki asked, voice on the verge of breaking. Frigga frowned.

“Know what, my son?”

“That I’m a Frost Giant.”

Frigga’s strokes to his hair stilled. Loki tensed, ready to be pushed away from her as though he was diseased. But a sob came from above him and the fingers in his hair coiled tighter. Loki glanced up as something hot and wet landed on his face, only to gape. Frigga was crying, tears spilling from her blue eyes with unrestrained abandon. Loki opened his mouth to ask if she was well, but Frigga cut him off by pulling him tighter to herself.

“Oh, Loki, my child. I never wanted you to find out this way.” Revulsion curled in Loki’s stomach at his Mother’s words. Yet another confirmation, but he was still baffled as to why she was referring to him as her child. Frigga’s hands gently pushed Loki away, but only enough so that she could look fully into his face. “When did you discover this?”

Loki swallowed when faced with the eyes that could so easily read him. He glanced away before answering. “When I followed Thor to Jotunheim. A Frost Giant touched me.”

“Did he live?” Loki frowned at the question but shook his head. A tension that had come to Frigga’s shoulders lessened a little. “Thank the Norns.”

“My skin turned blue,” Loki continued his story. “I thought it was Seidr, but that wasn’t possible. So that left shapeshifting or …” he trailed off, but Frigga didn’t need to hear any more.

“You wanted to test your theory,” she said, sharp eyes focused on him. “The Casket?” Loki nodded, and Frigga sighed. “So that is why your Father rushed off.”

“He’s not my Father,” the words were muttered, half hearted, but they were caught by Frigga and Loki yelped as he was cuffed soundly around the head.

“I don’t want to hear you say anything of that sort. Odin is your Father, I am your Mother. Where you were birthed can never change that.” Loki gaped at Frig – his Mother, towering angrily above him. Odi – Father had said similar things. Claiming him as his son, uncaring that he was born a Frost Giant, saying it didn’t matter. But …

Frigga must have noticed the doubt on his face, she clasped his shoulder and dragged Loki over to the chair before the bed. “Sit,” she pushed Loki into the seat before conjuring another chair to sit beside him. Loki tried not to look at his Father. Odin appeared frail, ill. Loki knew, logically that he was sleeping, the Odinsleep was something that Odin had been through many times. But Loki never believed he would get used to the sight of the indomitable King of Asgard looking as though he will never raise from his bed again. Reaching, Frigga grasped one of Loki’s hands, directing it through the golden dome so that he could take Odin’s. Loki flinched, but Frigga would not allow him to pull away, instead clasping her own hand on top of his, so all three were in contact.

“I remember when he brought you to me,” Loki looked at Frigga, her eyes were lost in thought. “He’d been called by Heimdall, hours before. He missed several important meetings that day, ones I had to see to in his absence. I was angry at him.” Frigga smiled a little, then fixed her gaze on Loki. “But when he came to the chamber, this bed chamber, with you wrapped in his cloak, I knew I would forgive him anything.” She stretched out her other hand to touch Loki’s cheek. “You were so small, so quiet. You’d had nothing to eat. Odin wanted to call a wetnurse, but I would not allow it. At the sight of you I knew, that even though you had not been birthed from my body, that you were mine in every sense.”

Loki stared wide eyed as his Mother spoke, eyes intent, with a will that spoke nothing but the truth. “I forced my body to respond, fed you even though the action could have damaged me. But I didn’t care. It was that same night that we, Odin and I, shared our blood with you.”

“Shared blood?” Loki asked, and Frigga smiled.

“Yes, my darling. Our blood runs through you, blood we willing gave to you. So, you see,” she cupped his cheek. “You are, in every way that matters, ours. We love you, raised you, and that will never change.” As Frigga stopped speaking, Loki was surprised to feel the hand beneath his shift. Shocked, Loki turned to see Odin’s fingers were wrapping around his own, squeezing gently.

The tears came back unbidden, Loki was able to hold in his sobs, but he was helpless to stop the hot tears from running down his cheeks.

“M-Mother,” he stuttered, and Frigga didn’t hesitate, standing from her chair and wrapping her arms around Loki’s shoulders from behind.

“Shh, it’s alright Loki. It’s alright my son, you can cry. Never be ashamed to cry, crying means you’re feeling, that you care. Never lose that.”

Loki didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but eventually, he pulled himself away from his Mother, taking Odin’s hand in his own, the All-Father’s grip having slackened. Wiping away the last of the tears, Loki smiled at Frigga, his heart lighter. He was still having trouble reconciling what he was, but now he felt safe in the knowledge that he parents loved him, even if he didn’t understand it.

“Does Thor know?” Frigga shook her head. “Why, he would have -”

“Your Brother was not on Asgard at the time of your arrival,” Frigga explained, retaking her seat. “Your Father had sent him to Vanaheim seventy-seven Midgardian years prior.” Loki frowned, but nodded. Seventy-seven Midgardian years equalled to roughly one to an Asgardian. It was plenty of time for Frigga to have become pregnant with him.

“Didn’t anyone question it?” Loki asked curiously. “I mean, you were never pregnant.”

“No, I was not, but it is a simple thing to conceal a pregnancy. I had done so before with Thor, not willing to risk assassinations if word had got around of my vulnerable condition.” Loki couldn’t help but smirk, one Frigga shared. It was a sound trick, one simple enough not to be questioned and easy enough to maintain over a long period of time.

“So, Thor -”

“We wanted you to know before Thor. And no,” Frigga cut off Loki before he could speak. “We could not have told you before now.”

“Why?”

“Would you have understood it?” Frigga said with a raised eyebrow, which made Loki blush. “You are still but a child Loki, if we had tried to explain this to you at a younger age, you would not have understood. Though,” she smiled. “I am glad we did not wait until you reached adulthood, like your Father wanted.”

“Why not?”

“That is not important,” Frigga waved him off and Loki pouted.      

“How long will it last?” he asked, nodding to Odin.

“I don’t know,” Frigga answered with a frown. “It is different this time. We were unprepared.”

A bloom of worry blossomed in Loki’s chest. “He will wake? Right?” Frigga’s frown vanished as she took in her son.

“Of course,” she said. “Your Father is strong.”

Loki didn’t know if he believed her, but he allowed himself to be comforted. It was then that the chamber door opened. Both royals turned to see Erling, along with the Council of Nine and several Einherjar.

“My Queen,” Erling bowed, as the Einherjar spread around the room, covering all entrances and exits. The rest of the Council kept at a respectful distance, eyes averted so they were not looking directly at the sleeping King. “Such a shock this is, my self and the Council believed we had more time.”

Frigga nodded but said nothing. Erling stepped closer, looking forlornly at the All-Father. “He sleeps?”

“Yes,” Frigga agreed, moving so she was between Erling and the bed. “The healers are unsure when he will wake.”

“Such difficult news,” Erling shook his head. “And with Prince Thor banished and the trouble with Jotunheim, it does not seem luck is on our side.”

“Indeed,” Frigga said, blue eyes assessing. “If I may ask, what has prompted the Council to invade their King’s bed chamber?”

“A Regent must be put in place,” it was another of the Council that spoke. He was an older Asgardian, with white hair and a beard with tickled his chin. He bowed to the Queen, “Asgard must have stability.”

“That goes without saying Rangvald,” Frigga said. “But -”

“It is obvious what we must do,” Loki was surprised at the interruption, it was considered rude for anyone to cut off a Royal and from the looks on some of the elders faces they were having trouble holding their own tongues. Vern shoved his way through his fellow Councillors, mouth twisted in a snarl. “We must bring back Prince Thor.”

“That is not a decision for the Council,” Frigga spoke calmly. Vern grunted.

“We have no choice, there is no other heir of age.” Loki stiffened as Vern shot him a look of distain, but after a moments hesitation he lifted his chin, trying to hide his intimidation. “The Jotuns have declared war, we must have a strong leader in order for us to win.”

A few of the other Councillors murmured in agreement, Erling frowned and Vern shot him a smug look.

“Vern,” Erling started to scold the younger Councillor but Frigga had had enough.

“This is not something of which the Council has any power to enact,” Frigga announced, reaching out her hand Loki was shocked when Gungnir appeared. The Queen gripped it, banging the butt of the golden spear into the floor, bringing silence. “While the All-Father sleeps, I will be Regent, as I have been for many a year.”

“B…but my Queen,” another Councillor stuttered. “There is an heir of age, it is not proper -”

“The heir is banished,” Frigga’s voice echoed around the chamber, fuelled with power that made Loki shiver. “At the command of the King, his heir is banished from Asgard, only to return when he has proven himself worthy. Until that time, I am Regent.” Vern opened his mouth to protest, but Erling was faster. Dropping to his knees, he bowed his head.

“All hail the Queen.” Vern looked as though he had been slapped, even more so when the other Councillors followed Erling’s example. With reluctance the younger Asgardian bowed, but he did not look happy.

“All hail the Queen,” he said through gritted teeth, and Loki had to hide a grin. “My Queen, it may still be prudent to end Thor’s banishment, the Frost Giants -”

“Have no means to travel to Midgard,” Frigga cut Vern off. “He will be safer there than on his own Realm.” Loki glanced at his Mother, she sounded confident, but Loki knew better. He could hear the tension, the worry. Was she worried about Thor?

“Who will remain with the All-Father?” another Councillor asked. “You had arranged for yourself to be at his side, to ground him during his sleep.”

“And I will be when I can,” Frigga agreed. “Eir and the healers will replace me when I attend to my duties.”

“I can stay with Father,” Loki piped up. His announcement shocked some of the Council, them most likely not have noticed him in the room until he spoke.

Frigga smiled. “I am sure your Father will enjoy having you close, but a healer will still have to remain with him.”

“Why?”

“To help stabilise his Seidr, Young Prince,” Erling said. “The All-Father sleeps when the Seidr of Asgard, the Odinforce, becomes too much. He must rest so that he is not overwhelmed, but he is vulnerable to being swept away. That is why another Seidr user must be present, to help calm the Odinforce and provide something for it to latch onto.”

“Even though you excel in your studies,” Frigga continued the explanation. “Your Seidr is not yet mature enough to safely ground someone else’s.” Loki pouted, disappointed, Frigga sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps it is best that you return to your rooms now, you have been up half the night.”

Loki didn’t want to, not wanting to leave the comforting presence of his Mother’s side. But the Council of Nine were all but quivering with anticipation to speak with the Queen, most likely on war matters, Loki didn’t really have a choice.

“Yes Mother,” he mumbled, taking the time to kiss her on the cheek. The show of affection was not something the Royal family was known to do in the presence of others, but Loki wanted to reassure his Mother, to ease some of her worry, though he doubted it would do that. He crossed to the bed, taking Odin’s hand and squeezing. “I’ll be back later Father,” he whispered before retreating out of the door.

Once in the corridor Loki’s shoulders slumped. Tiredness creeped up on him, having been kept at bay with adrenalin. Glancing behind, Loki noted that the door was already shut, Seidr enveloping it to keep out any intruders. Sighing Loki walked away, he’d head to his own chambers and try to catch a few hours of sleep.

It was still early morning; the Palace servants were just starting to rise and begin their chores. Loki ignored the whispered words that followed him. He was well aware that he was still in his night clothes, but he didn’t care. He’d had enough shocks to last him the next one hundred years.

On a whim Loki took the more scenic route back to his chambers, one that took him beyond the private Royal quarters and passed the Throne room. As he went by, Loki couldn’t help but peek in. It was empty, a complete contrast to Thor’s failed coronation. Green eyes wandered to the Throne itself. Hlidskjalf was large, bigger than even the King that sat upon it. Made of pure gold and crafted by some of the best Dwarven Smiths within the Nine Realms, well before even the time of Odin. It was also rumoured it could let the All-Father see beyond the Realm, much like Heimdall in the Observatory. An idea sparked in Loki’s mind, perhaps he would be able to see Thor through Hlidskjalf? He could report back to Mother that he was well, it would certainly ease her mind, and Loki, though he would not admit it, wanted to see his Brother.

Licking his lips, Loki glanced around him, no one was about. In a quick dash he headed for the throne, jumping up the steps until he was stood on the small space that provided room for Frigga, himself and Thor to stand by the King’s side for important ceremonies.

Loki hesitated a moment before tentatively reaching out to touch the glowing gold. It felt cold under his fingers, but there was no spark, nothing to indicate that the throne held any Seidr. He closed his eyes and reached out with his Seidr, maybe something would respond. Nothing did. Furrowing his brow Loki tried a second time, but again there was nothing. Frustrated he moved, sitting himself in the throne, perhaps if more of his body was in contact it would unlock something. Nothing. With a growl he slammed his fist against the carved golden arm.

“Why won't you work?” he snapped, unconcerned that he was talking to an inanimate object. Obviously, he received no reply, which only frustrated Loki all the more. He was just about to try again when rapid footsteps echoed from the corridor before their owner burst into the Throne room.

“All-Father, we must speak with …” the rest of Sif’s words trailed off as she took in Loki, dressed in his night clothes, sat on Hlidskjalf. “What are you doing there?” Loki glared at the incredulity in her tone, but he was distracted by the Warrior’s Three coming up behind the woman, all with looks of confused concern.

“Young Prince Loki?” Volstagg asked, brow furrowed. “What are you doing here, and in your night things?” Loki beat back a flush, which was easy as Sif snapped out.

“Where is the All-Father?”

Irritated, Loki looked down his nose at her. “You haven’t heard?” he asked, a sneer tinting his voice. “The All-Father has fallen into the Odinsleep.”

The shock on each of their faces made Loki feel a little better, but he did wonder why they had burst into the Throne room the way they did. His Father would have been most displeased if he had been there, that was not how you spoke to the King.

“The Queen?” Fandral asked.

“She is with him.”

“We will speak with her,” Sif all but demanded. Loki raised an eyebrow.

“She is with the Council of Nine,” he said. “She has claimed the regency since the King sleeps and Thor is banished. You should schedule an audience -”

“It is urgent,” Sif cut him off and Loki was surprised to see her fists were clenched at her sides. “We must see her now.” Loki swallowed, feeling intimidated by the woman, but he could not allow them to add to his Mother’s stress.

“And the Queen is busy,” Loki snapped, standing from his seat to look down at the warriors. He pulled his shoulders back, staring down his nose at them, appearing every inch a Prince. “If it’s that urgent she will likely see you when you send your petition.”

Sif looked ready to explode, and Loki subtly readied a ward in case she did anything, but Hogan reached out, placing a calming hand on her shoulder before turning to Loki.

“It concerns Thor’s banishment.” Loki frowned.

“What about it?”

“We ask that it be rescinded,” Sif hissed.

“That is something for the Queen to decide.”

“But …”

“The Queen cannot just undo the All-Father’s last command,” Loki went on, feeling more confident. Politics was something he excelled in, something, according to his tutors his Brother still struggled with to this day. “The People need stability now. And in case you have forgotten, we’re on the brink of war with Jotunheim. An action which the All-Father has laid at Thor’s feet. He must be seen to be paying for that action.”

The Warrior’s shuffled uneasily, sharing glances, though Sif’s face was like thunder. Loki wondered if she was furious because he had said something bad about Thor, or simply because it was him that had said it. An echoing clap suddenly filled the heavy silence that had fallen over the Throne room. Loki startled, so did Sif and the Warrior’s.

“Fine words, Prince Loki, truly you are a credit to your station.”

“Amora,” Sif growled, turning to the entrance where the Seidr user stood. Her blonde hair was pulled up, so that it fell in a lose tail down her back. Her dress had been replaced with leather trousers and a long tunic top that stopped at her knees, coloured a deep blue, with black boots covering her legs. It was a far cry from the warrior armour that Sif wore, but as a Seidr user, Amora had more use for speed than brute strength. “What are you doing here?”

“I was merely passing by,” Amora waved a hand, stepping further into the Throne room, a smirk on her face. “It is not my fault you were speaking so loudly.” Sif looked ready to go for the other woman, but Amora ignored her, approaching the throne and curtsying to Loki. “Prince Loki, I’m sorry for the sudden sleep of the All-Father, it must have come as quiet a shock.”

“Thank you, Lady Amora,” Loki inclined his head regally. “Though the healers are sure he will make it through. It was merely sudden.”

Amora straightened and smiled. “Indeed, and with Prince Thor’s banishment,” she worried her lip and Loki thought she looked genuinely concerned. “The Queen must have been most distressed.”

“She worries for Thor,” Loki said. “As do we all, but we trust in the All-Father’s wisdom.”

“Of course, of course, only a fool would dare to question the decisions of the All-Father.” Loki easily caught the sneer that was sent Sif’s way, one the warrior female returned in kind. Sighing, Loki stepped down from Hlidskjalf, sleep starting to way heavy on his head.

“If you all could excuse me, I must return to my rooms.” The Warrior’s Three nodded, Sif scowled at him, Amora smiled.

“Allow me to escort you,” she said and before Loki could protest, she swept an arm around him, being careful not to directly touch him, but leaving Loki little choice but to be ushered out of the room. Once in the corridor, Amora moved away, taking a step behind Loki, as was custom when walking with Royalty.

“There was no need to escort me,” Loki said, but Amora waved him off.

“These are dangerous times now, Prince Loki, what with the infiltration from the Frost Giants, why anything could happen.” Loki worried his lip. He agreed, they still did not know how the Frost Giants had been able to get in to the Vault, and with Thor banished, Asgard was weak and they couldn’t afford to be too careful.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. The Warriors seem nervous without Thor.”

“Was that what they wished to discuss?” Amora asked. Loki shrugged.

“They wanted to see the All-Father, to rescind Thor’s banishment.” Amora didn’t answer right away, Loki glanced behind and was surprised to see a gleam in the Seidr user’s eyes.

“Really?”

“Aye,” Loki nodded, a frown marring his face as he turned back around. “Though even if the King had been there to hear their plea, I doubt he would have done it.”

“You were there, were you not?” Amora asked. “When Thor was banished.” Loki paused, looking over his shoulder at the woman, she was staring at him with eyes that Loki found unnerving. He picked up his pace.

“Yes.”

“It must have been shocking, to see your mighty Brother thrown from the Realm.”

“I -”

“Thor is such an integral part of Asgard,” Amora went on, cutting any reply Loki could give. “The Crown Prince, the only heir of age. It must be such a burden to your Mother, having no one to support her.” Loki’s spine stiffened, and he turned fully to face the Seidr user.

“She has me,” he hissed, but Amora only laughed.

“Of course, she does, I’m sure she will find comfort in your presence, even if you may not help her in her duties.” Loki was ready to unleash some of his own Seidr on the grinning Sorceress but was stopped as a door opened.

“Prince Loki, I was expecting you sooner.” Both Amora and Loki turned to Alviss, who had stepped from one of the many rooms and was stalking towards them. The old Steward halted a few feet away, bowing to Amora. “Lady Amora, my thanks for escorting the Prince, but I can take him from here.”

“Ah, Alviss,” Amora smiled at the Steward, but Loki thought it looked strained, forced. “Yes, we are nearing the Royal quarters after all. It would be bad manners for me to enter.” Alviss inclined his head, Loki took the opportunity to scamper over to him, feeling a little calmer now that he was away from the woman.

“Thank you for the escort, Lady Amora,” Loki said politely.

“No problem at all,” she replied, waving her hand before disappearing into thin air. Loki couldn’t help but gape at the display, she hadn’t used an incantation and he was pretty sure it wasn’t invisibility.

“Teleportation,” he breathed out in awe.

“So, it would seem,” Loki frowned, surprised at how tight Alviss’s tone was.

“Alviss?”

“Nothing, my Young Prince,” the Steward waved off Loki’s concern, fixing his keen gaze on the Prince. “Let us return to your rooms. Perhaps you will be able to get some sleep before I will be forced to rouse you.”

***

True to his word, Alviss roused Loki towards the middle of the day. It was not enough for Loki to feel fully rested, but the sleep had allowed his mind to put things into perspective.

He still had a hard time wrapping his mind around the fact that he was a Frost Giant, he was sure it would take some time and more talks with his Mother and Father before he could fully accept it. But he was content that his Mother and Father did love him, that they thought of him as their son, even if all the stories Loki had heard still haunted him. However, his worry over the state of Thor had not been abated. If fact it had increased. He was sure that his Mother had not had time to check on her eldest with Hlidskjalf, the Council of Nine would have kept her busy, along with caring for Odin. Loki wanted to do something that would ease his Mother’s mind, and since Hlidskjalf would not respond to him, he was going to have to go with the next best option.  

He was dressed by the maids, a simple leather outfit of black and green, with soft boots and a few knives placed secretly on his person. After he had been washed and dressed, Loki hadn’t even bothered to inquire if he had lessons, instead haring off out of the Palace, ignoring the calls of the guards and servants. He headed for the stables, luckily the stable hands there prepared his horse without asking to many questions. Well when he said horse, Loki really meant pony. Asta was a dark brown mare, that would be leggy when she finally grew into her full height. Along her forehead and nose a stripe of white stood out from the dark fur, it was the feature that had first drawn Loki’s eye to her, when his Father had brought him for his last naming day to pick out his first horse from the foals that had recently been born. Loki easily mounted the saddle, which the stable hands had placed on her. With a click of his tongue and a slight twitch of the reins, Asta walked from the stable, before Loki urged her forward to break into a fast trot.

It didn’t take long to reach the Rainbow Bridge, Loki took care to slow his mount, not wanting to risk Asta bolting if spooked by the Seidr that rushed along the Bridge. Soon enough he was at the Observatory. He dismounted, making sure to secure Asta, then he swallowed and walked inside.

“Young Prince Loki,” Heimdall was already stood by the back of the room, golden eyes looking out into the darkness of space, not even bothering to turn to him.

“Heimdall,” Loki said, gingerly stepping closer until he was beside the obsidian Asgardian. “I wanted to ask -”

“If you could see Prince Thor,” Heimdall finished the sentence, causing Loki to pout.

“I know the All-Father has banished him,” Loki said. “But I think Mother worries, I want to relieve her of that.” Heimdall said nothing, continuing to look into the darkness of space. Loki shifted, uncomfortable with the silence.

“Why did you go to Jotunheim?” Loki blinked, surprised by the question.

“Pardon?” Heimdall turned now, directing that unnerving golden gaze on Loki.

“You followed your Brother, hiding from my sight to sneak into Jotunheim,” Loki thought he caught a fission of irritation in the usually stoic Asgardian’s voice. Loki had to bite his lip to stop from grinning. It seemed that his tinkering with the invisibility spell worked for Heimdall’s all seeing eyes, how interesting. “Why would you wish to do such a thing?” Loki shivered under the impassive expression, but he caught a glimpse of something else.

“You know,” he breathed out, unable to keep the shock and horror from his tone. Heimdall said nothing, waiting for Loki to answer his original question. “I don’t know really,” Loki chewed his lip as he thought. “I thought it was a good idea at the time. Thor’s always going off on quests and I … I just wanted to go with him.” Heimdall hummed as Loki furrowed his brow. “I was also intrigued, I wanted to know how the Frost Giants got in to Asgard, I thought maybe … that I …” As Loki trailed off, a deep chuckle erupted from Heimdall’s chest.

“You wanted to solve the mystery, Young Prince?” Loki glared at the taunt, crossing his arms.

“Maybe.”

“But it appears as though you discovered something else.” And like that the moment was gone, and a shiver ran down Loki’s spine. He averted his eyes, green gaze fixed on the white stone of the Observatory.

“Yes,” Loki mumbled, nervous to be talking about this with Heimdall. He’d always been a little wary of the Gatekeeper, his all-seeing eyes being the bane of Loki’s mischief.

“You seem distressed?”

“Wouldn’t you be if you found out your life was a lie?”

“Who said it was?”

“I’m a Frost Giant,” Loki snapped, voice breaking slightly, internally wincing having had to say the words aloud. “The monster of children’s tales, the ancient enemy of Asgard. Yet I was raised to believe I was a Prince.”

“You are a Prince.”

“I …”

“I remember when I first saw you,” the Gatekeeper began. “Such a small thing. Your cries were what I heard first, they allowed me to find you in the temple.” Loki stood there, riveted as he listened to the tale. “You were small, for a Giants offspring, I had never seen another like you. I did not hesitate in sending for Odin, who upon hearing of you, rushed to Jotunheim, claiming you.” Loki swallowed as Heimdall leaned in closer to him. “I will never forget his words when he returned, cloak wrapped around you to stave off the chill.” Loki swallowed as Heimdall paused.

“W…what did he say?”

Heimdall regarded him in silence for a moment, before opening his mouth to say, “‘it appears the Norns have granted me a second child, a little Frostling. Truly I am blessed.’”

Loki blinked, keeping back tears. “H…he said that?” Heimdall nodded and Loki had to fist his eyes to stop the tears from escaping. “You didn’t try to stop him?”

“I had no right to stop a Father from taking his son home, my Prince.” Loki couldn’t keep the surprise from his face, even more so when Heimdall placed a hand on his shoulder. “I hope this eases your mind.” Loki frantically nodded and Heimdall smiled. “Now you asked to see Prince Thor.”

“Yes, I wanted Mother … I wanted to see him.”

“As my Prince commands.” Heimdall led Loki to one of the windows, hand still on his shoulder. When both were looking into the light specked blackness he tightened his grip. “This will feel a little strange.”

“I can do it,” Loki said, determined. Heimdall didn’t speak again, but suddenly Loki’s vision shifted, the blackness of space disappearing to be replaced with an image of a whitewashed room with one big clear window. But it was the person sat chained in the middle that had Loki gasping, hands flying to cover his mouth. “Thor!”          

                                        


	5. Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! Thanks for coming back and checking out the next part of this story. Hope your all enjoying this so far and maybe getting a few ideas of your own, we could always do with a little more Kid Loki in our lives. Anyway for anyone who is a little confused about who will be the villain of this story, I have mainly one thing to say. It will not be Loki! Of course, I love our resident evil badass in the MCU but this is Kid Loki and he is entirely innocent. But do not fear for I have a cunning plan, which will be revealed.  
> Thank you as always to everyone who is reading, dropping kudos, bookmarking and commenting on the story (I really like it when you comment gives fuel to fire to finish this story) I hope you enjoy what comes. 
> 
> See you next time! 
> 
> Cheers! D.S X
> 
> P.S Once again edited, but there maybe more, let me know if you spot anything XX

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 5 **

Loki would have run forward if it wasn’t for the steadying hand on his shoulder.

“He cannot see you Young Prince,” Heimdall rumbled. “Nor can he hear you, I am merely projecting what is happening on Midgard right now into your mind.”

Loki tensed, glancing up at Heimdall, whose gaze was fixed on the morose Thor. There was no lie in his face, just the usual stony, stoic expression. The Young Prince swallowed, turning back to his Brother. He looked so defeated, head hanging low as he sat in the bare metal chair. He eyed the restraints, simple manacles, something which Thor should be able to break easily, if he still had his powers.

“What happened?” Loki whispered.

“He tried to reclaim Mjolnir.” Loki gasped, opening his mouth to question more, but the sound of a door opening stopped him.

“It's not easy to do what you did.” A man strode inside, shutting the door behind him with a click. He looked nothing like the Asgardian warriors Loki was used to. Small and stocky, dressed in a flimsy black material that fitted close to his body. Loki wrinkled his nose, how could this man have bested his Brother, he looked like he could hardly lift an axe.  “You made us all look like a bunch of mall cops. That's hurtful.”

Thor didn’t respond, Loki stared at him in concern. That was not like his Brother either. Thor should have been shouting, crying out for all to hear that he was not defeated yet, that he would win the day even when it would be more sensible to retreat. The Midgardian moved closer, eyes racking over Thor searchingly.

“The men you so easily subdued are highly-trained professionals, and in my experience, it takes someone who's received similar training to do what you did to them.”

 

“What is he speaking of?” Loki asked.

 

“Thor tried to reclaim Mjolnir,” Heimdall repeated. “However, the Midgardians had already seized it. Thor broke into their facility, defeating their warriors, only for Mjolnir not to respond to him.”

 

Loki gaped at that. “Thor could not lift Mjolnir?” he asked, to which Heimdall nodded. Loki choked. Thor was unworthy of Mjolnir? “That’s impossible,” he whispered.

 

“It is not without its purpose.” Loki scowled, the cryptic words unhelpful. But before he could complain the Midgardian spoke again.

  

“Would you like to tell me where you received your training?” Loki frowned, narrowing his eyes as he studied the mortal closer. The Midgardian could tell Thor was trained, that was better than most of the stories said that Midgardians could do. Most believed Midgard to be a savage, useless Realm, that was inhabited by a species that could never amount to much with their short life spans. Loki’s lips quirked a little, it appeared that some of the scholars were wrong.

 

Once again, Thor did not answer the question. Loki worried, his Brother seemed so broken, so lost. Could not being able to lift Mjolnir have damaged him so badly?

 

“Pakistan?” the Midgardian continued his questioning. “Chechnya? Afghanistan? Then again, you strike me more as the soldier of fortune type.” Loki scoffed at that. Thor was far from a fortune hunter, though if you counted glory as fortune, Thor was rich beyond measure. “What was it, South Africa?”

 

Still Thor was silent. The Midgardian’s eyebrow twitched, the one indicator that he was losing his patience. Loki had to hand it to the mortal, he could hold a poker face better than some on the Council of Nine. He stepped closer.

         

“Certain groups pay well for a good mercenary. Especially HYDRA.” The Midgardian paused, as though waiting for a response. Loki lifted an eyebrow. HYDRA? He’d spoken it with such intent, as though he was searching for something specific. Loki wondered what the word meant to illicit such a pronunciation from a man that had such skill at appearing unruffled.

 

Thor sat there, not even twitching as the Midgardian loomed over him. Finally, the mortal pulled back, a slight furrow in his brow. “Who are you?” he asked, more to himself than Thor, but for the first time a reaction happened. Thor’s fingers clenched on the chair, rattling the manacles that held him, he lifted his head and Loki could not hold in his gasp as he saw his Brother’s face.

So drawn and tired, as though he had not slept for days, his tan had dimmed, so he was pasty white. He looked haggard, his beard which was usually so well trimmed was a tangled mess around his face. But it was his eyes that concerned Loki the most. They were empty, dull. The fire that seemed to spark in Thor’s blue eyes had gone out, leaving nothing behind but an empty void. Thor’s lips parted and with a voice that was a fraction of the usual booming tone his Brother was known for he said.

“Just a man.”

“I think that is enough, Young Prince.” With those words the scene vanished before Loki’s eyes, replaced once again with the dark void of space that could be seen from the Observatory. When Loki had reoriented himself, he ripped himself from Heimdall.

“Why didn’t you help him?” he demanded, glaring at the Gatekeeper.

“This is his lesson to learn.”

“But the Midgardian’s -”

“Did nothing that truly harmed Prince Thor,” Heimdall said calmly. “’Twas the Crown Prince who attacked them, who engaged in battle first without thinking it through, now he must reap the consequences of those actions.” Loki opened his mouth, only to shut it once again. His logical mind could see what Heimdall was saying, he recognised the lesson which their Father no doubt was trying to teach Thor, something which, if he was being honest with himself, Thor was long overdue. But he was still Thor’s little Brother, he was so used to being protected by his Brother’s strength, his presence. To see him so broken, it shattered Loki’s heart.

He turned to look at his feet, clenching his fists so that his nails dug into his palms. “I can’t tell Mother about this,” he mumbled.

“I’m sure she has some idea of the trouble her eldest child could get into,” Heimdall replied.

“But I wanted to reassure her,” Loki argued. “She’s Regent and trying to look after Father at the same time. The Council -”

“Will support her,” Heimdall cut him off before Loki could finish. “Just as you will.”

Loki could say nothing to that. He scuffed his boot on the white stone, hoping the action would be enough to ease some of his tension. “Thor will be alright, won’t he?”

“Your Father would not have banished him to Midgard if he thought he would be unsafe there.” Loki assumed Heimdall was trying to be reassuring, but with the monotone voice it was hard to tell. “Though now I believe it is time for you to return to the Palace.” Loki sighed. Heimdall was right in that, it would not be long until his was missed and he wanted to sit with his Father.

“Yes,” he said. After a moments hesitation he bowed to Heimdall, who returned the gesture. “Thank you Heimdall.”

“Of course, Young Prince. Though if I may offer some advice.” Loki frowned, but nodded. “Think nothing of the Frost Giants, it is not something someone so young should try and insinuate themselves into.” Loki gaped and would have argued with the Gatekeeper, but the way the Asgardian stared at him, shoulders back and face impassive, it stopped any protest short in Loki’s throat.

“Aye Heimdall,” Loki managed to croak out, before retreating to mount Asta and return to the Palace.

***

When Loki returned Asta to the stables, he was surprised to see the place in a bit of an up roar. As he dismounted, Asta’s reins being hastily taken by one of the stable boy’s he asked.

“What’s going on?”

“Lady Sif and The Warrior’s Three’s horses are missing. No one knows if they’ve taken them out or there was a mistake in their lock up last night.” Loki raised an eyebrow. He was positive it could not be a fault with the Stable Hands, this was the Palace stable after all, they couldn’t afford to be known for making those kinds of mistakes, especially with the King’s horses.

“I’m sure they merely took them out before dawn,” Loki said, waving his hand. “Please see to Asta.”

“Of course, my Prince,” the boy bowed, and Loki started his walk to the Palace.

The Guards greeted him warmly, but Loki was sure he noted a bit of sympathy, it appeared as though the All-Father’s condition had been announced to the people. A smart move, as it would not do to make the people panic. Loki wondered if they had also been informed of the Frost Giants declaration of war. He shook his head, he doubted it, it was enough that they would have heard the rumours of an infiltration of the Vault, the Council and his Mother would not want to cause more trouble with confirming that war could be looming.

“Prince Loki!”

Loki spun at the call of his name, only to be confronted by one of the messenger boy's, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Loki let the young man take a moment, before he straightened and bowed. “Message for you, my Prince.”

“Speak it.”

“From the Queen. She has arranged for a tutor to meet you after lunch, you are to present yourself to them as soon as you are able.”

Loki winced and would have cursed if he wasn’t sure the messenger wouldn’t have reported his behaviour back to his Mother. Frigga was being sneaky indeed, no doubt this was a ploy to distract Loki during this time, by placing him at the mercy of his tutors. Even though this was supposed to still be a time of celebration for Thor’s coronation. It was quite clever of her actually.

“Of course,” Loki plastered a smile on his face. “I will have lunch and join them.” The messenger boy looked relieved as his shoulders slumped.

“Very good, my Prince. I’ll inform Tyr that you will be joining him at the training yard.”

“W…wait a minute,” Loki spluttered, eyes widening. “Tyr? I thought I was going to my tutors?”

“Your regular tutors are on leave, due to the fact Prince Thor’s coronation was due to be celebrated.” The messenger boy said sheepishly. “The Queen however was able to convince General Tyr to help with your training, you know he’s been thinking of taking over the Cohorts. That -”

“Yes, thank you, I’ll be sure to meet him. Dismissed.” Loki didn’t even wait for the messenger to leave, turning on his heel and resisting the urge to run back to his quarters. He’d write down some instructions for his last will and testament, as he might not be leaving Tyr’s training alive.

***

“Swing it from your hips, don’t let your arms do all the work or you’ll end up with them broken.”

“General Tyr, don’t you think it’s time we stopped,” Loki tried to hide the whine in his voice, but it was hard. Sweat dropped from his brow, falling into his eyes and making them sting. His black locks were a slick mess, tangling behind his ears as he tucked it back. Tyr had been working him for hours. Loki was glad he’d eaten and changed into his training leathers before coming down to the yard, otherwise he might have been even more of a mess.

“Nonsense, Young Prince,” Tyr boomed. “If you want to become a spearman like your Father, it will take more hours than just an afternoon.” Loki bit his lip to stop an angry retort from spewing passed his lips. General Tyr was one of the most respected Generals in the Army of Asgard. A similar age to the All-Father he had been on more campaigns than Loki had seen winters. Even with the loss of his arm and scarred face, he was a formidable warrior, taking on the task of training the older recruits in preparation for their warrior career. Loki hoped he never switched to training the Cohorts.

Loki slammed the butt of the training spear into dirt, leaning heavily against it to catch his breath. “I only stated that I might like to try it,” he mumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, General,” Loki swiftly answered. Gritting his teeth, he gripped the spear, one hand placed near the centre of the shaft, another further down. With aching muscles, he brought it lengthways, so that the spear was level with his hip. He paused, fingers clenching, then with a roar he thrust the spear forward, the tip moving up wards a little, making sure to swivel his hips.

“That’s more like it,” Tyr nodded in approval. “If you want to unseat a horse man you’re going to need more leverage than if they were on the ground. Aim for the face and you’ll most likely be able to unseat them.”

“I think it will be many centuries until I would have need to put this in to practice, General,” Loki painted.

“Never say such things, Prince Loki,” Tyr admonished. “War can come at any time, usually when you least expect it.”

The Young Prince turned to stare at the General, he had a far away look in his eyes, remembering something Loki could probably not even imagine. “May the Norns keep war from coming to the Realms again,” Loki muttered, to which Tyr shook his head.

“War always comes, my Prince, even when we try our best to stop it.”

Loki frowned, opening his mouth to enquire further when the distinct sound of clapping came from behind him.

“Wise words, General, I can see now why the Queen was so insistent on you staying within the Palace, even if it was to train the Young Prince.”  

Tyr stiffened, and Loki turned to see Erling walking towards the pair. His lips were twisted into a smile, though it was far from pleasant with the way the scar puckered the skin. Loki couldn’t help but compare the two men. Erling, while still built for battle, had sagged a little, muscles no longer used to swinging a sword or axe the way Tyr could still do with ease. Loki also note that Tyr’s scars seemed to suit him, while Erling’s once seen made most people wince.

“Councilmen Erling,” Tyr inclined his head. “To what do we owe your presence here?”

“I was simply passing by,” Erling waved a dismissive hand.

“Are the Council of Nine and the Queen still in discussion?” Loki asked, eyes hopeful. Erling sighed.

“We have called a recess for this day, but I would not disturb the Queen, Young Prince,” Erling said before Loki’s grin could so much as lift the corner of his mouth. “She has joined the All-Father to aid with his sleep.”

Loki's face fell, and he scraped the butt of the spear in the dirt. He had hoped to be able to see his Mother, even if it was just to sit with the All-Father. With everything that had happened, Loki, even though he would never admit it aloud, wanted the reassurance being in his parent’s presence brought.

“While I’m here, General Tyr,” Erling turned to the General. “The Council and Queen have agreed to place you with the Homeguard.” Tyr frowned.

“The Homeguard have their own chain of command,” he said. “Why would -”

“The Queen, though the Council may disagree, does not want you away from Asgard. But as one of Asgard’s finest warriors, we cannot have you simply training children.” Loki thought for a second, he could hear a sneer in Erling’s tone, but it was so swiftly back to being pleasant that he was sure it was just the fatigue of Tyr’s relentless workout. “In that event, the Homeguard is just the place for a man of your talents.”

Loki glanced at the General, his face had gone a slight purple colour, Loki couldn’t really blame him. The Homeguard was mostly made up of retired warrior veterans, something Tyr took great pride in not being, even though he could have retried years ago. Before Tyr could speak though, Erling moved to Loki’s side bowing slightly.

“The hour grows late. Prince Loki, may I be permitted to escort you back to you chamber, I’m sure you would like to freshen up before resting for the night.”

Loki wasn’t willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Tyr would more then likely have him out training most of the night if he had his way. “Of course, Councillor.”

Erling smiled, but it froze when he turned to Tyr once more. “You’re expected at the Homeguard tonight, General.” Tyr look fit to growl, but he held his tongue, barely inclining his head.

“Of course, Councillor,” he spoke through gritted teeth, though his bow and goodbye to Loki was much warmer. “Rest well, my Prince. I’ll be sure to request to the All-Father for further training with you with the spear. I’m sure he will agree.”

“Thank you, General,” Loki replied, though he dearly hoped that Tyr would forget about the whole thing. He didn’t think he would make it through another training session.

Loki took the lead, as was his right as Royalty, Erling as Spokesman and an elder Councillor was able to walk beside him, but he remained at respectful distance.

“It appears the Queen has found a way to fill your time,” Erling said and Loki huffed.

“I have no doubt she knows how much of a punishment this is for me,” he muttered and Erling laughed.

“You have barely been within the Cohort, it will take time to hone those skills.”

“I would much prefer if battle Seidr was included in the training.”

“Alas most of our warriors do not have the skill for Seidr,” Erling sighed.

“But it’s easy.” Erling laughed.

“For you, Young Prince, but many warriors have little to no talent at Seidr, and so it is dismissed.” Loki frowned, he had always wondered why his Seidr was so derided when he was in the Cohort. Perhaps knowing that most of his companions could not do Seidr made him understand a little, but it didn’t mean they had to pick on him for it and call him a cheat.

“I suppose,” Loki answered diplomatically. They headed further into the Palace, Erling nodding to any nobles they passed while Loki tried to pick up the pace, now he was away from Tyr he could smell the sweat coming off of him, he really was in need of a bath.

As they approached the Royal quarters, the tension in Loki’s hips and shoulders spasmed, sending shooting pain through his bones and causing him to stumble. Luckily, he was caught before he could hit the ground.

“Prince Loki,” Erling said, as he righted the boy. “Are you well?”

“Fine, fine,” Loki said through gritted teeth. “Just my muscles, I probably pushed too hard.”

“You should take better care, Young Prince,” Erling muttered, shaking his head as Loki managed to keep his feet, though his body was aching, he really needed a good soak in a hot bath. “With your Brother and the All-Father in such states, Asgard cannot afford to lose another Royal.”

Loki nodded, and Erling stepped away, a thoughtful look on his face. “Ah,” he said suddenly, reaching into his tunic and pulling out a small bottle. “I knew I would have it on me, old war wounds.”

“Councillor?”

“Here, Prince Loki,” Erling held out the bottle to him, a gentle smile on his lips. “This may help ease the pain.” Loki eyed the bottle. It was small, made of bronze, glowing in the low torch light that lit the darkening Palace corridors.

“What is it?”

“A simple tonic, one I use regularly,” Erling explained. “My old wounds sometimes give me pain,” he grimaced, and Loki couldn’t help but flick his eyes to the scar on his face. “This helps eases them.” Loki hesitated a moment, but with the aches his body was suffering he didn’t wait long. He took the bottle.

“Thank you, Councillor,” he said, a genuine smile twitching his lips.

“You are welcome, Prince Loki,” Erling replied, straightening. “Perhaps you should take some now, it may help wi …”

“Young Prince.”

Erling was cut off, and Loki spun, though he wished he’d not bothered as his shoulders stung.

“Alviss,” Loki said, keeping the discomfort from bleeding into his voice. The old Steward was stalking towards them, a concerned expression on his face. As he came closer, he stopped, bowing to Erling, who inclined his head.

“Councillor Erling.”

“Alviss,” Erling acknowledged, before dismissing the man and turning to Loki. “It appears I may leave you now.”

“Of course,” Loki said, clutching the bottle to his chest. “Thank you again Councillor.” Erling bowed and retreated.

“Prince Loki, we must return you to your chambers, you look like you could use a bath,” Alviss’s gentle voice reminded him.

“Yes,” Loki turned, taking his time as he continued his way to his chambers. Alviss moved behind him and Loki took the opportunity to unscrew the bottle Erling had given him. A sharp scent filled his nostril, making his eyes water a little. Frowning, Loki lifted the bottle, taking a sip. The taste that hit his tongue was bitter, and as it moved to the back of his throat Loki couldn’t help but choke, the feeling of bile starting to rise from his stomach. He coughed, bending double as he tried to fight the urge to be sick all over the floor. The bottle falling from his hand.

“Prince Loki!” Alviss was there immediately, hands hovering near his shoulders as Loki fought to get his body back under control.

“I…I’m al…alright, Alviss,” Loki tried to reassure the Steward. “The potion must not have agreed with me, is all.”

“Potion?”

“Councillor Erling gave me a pain reliver,” Loki said, eyes finding the bottle, the contents already spilled over the floor, no use to anyone now. “How he can swallow that stuff regularly is beyond me.” Alviss followed his gaze, and Loki caught a frown marring his brow as he looked at the bottle.

“I’ll have one of the maids come and clean it.”

“Thank you, Alviss.”

“Now come, Young Prince,” Alviss said, hands taking a hold of Loki’s shoulders, helping to support him, regardless of propriety. “You are in real need of a bath and a meal.”

***

After a bath and a little hot food, Loki was drowsy, in fact he had been since he and Alviss had made it into the Royal quarters. If the maid hadn’t come in to check on him, he was sure he would have fallen asleep in the bath. Which was most likely why as soon as he had got into bed, his eyes had shut, and he had slept. He probably still would have been sleeping if it wasn’t for the noise. It hadn’t been loud, not a crash or anything of that sort, more like a muffled shout, dragging Loki from his dreams to sit up blearily in bed.

He rubbed his eyes, his room was dark, the torches having been extinguished by Alviss and the maids. Once he was relatively more awake, Loki sat there and listened. The night was still and silent, Loki could hear nothing like the sound that had dragged him from sleep. He frowned, perhaps he had imagined it. His dreams had been vivid, he couldn’t quiet remember what they were about. Maybe it was that?

But Loki’s curiosity was now peaked, his mind was buzzing. He knew that unless he could prove that the noise was nothing he’d never be able to fall back asleep. Sighing he pulled back the covers, bare feet freezing as they hit the floor. He hopped over to claim his slippers and dressing gown, hoping they would be enough to stave off the chill before he could get back into bed. Running a hand through his messy bed hair, Loki went to his door, with an aggravated sigh he pulled it open, ready to see nothing but an empty corridor. Only that was not the case. Down the hallway, where the guards usually stood was a familiar shape, one that had haunted Loki’s dreams since his early childhood, and now was a prominent focus of his night terrors since the revelation of his heritage.

A Jotun was towering over the Asgardian guard, a large azure hand choking the life out them as they struggled fruitlessly. Loki could only watch in horror as the fiercely kicking legs slowed, until they finally stopped, and the Jotun dropped the guard, so they landed lifeless on the floor with a clatter.  

“Fool,” a harsh whisper came from the shadows and Loki had to cover his mouth with his hands to stop a cry of distress as another Jotun came into view. “You’re making too much noise.”

“It makes no difference,” the other grunted. “He said …”

“I don’t care what he said,” the other spat furiously. “King Laufey wants us to secure the Prince, you’ll have more guards on us if you …” Loki didn’t hear the rest of the Jotun’s conversation, instead dashing out of his door and down the corridor away from his room.

 Jotuns. There were Jotuns in the Palace, in the Royal quarters, looking for him. The fear pulsed through his veins, making him run even faster. There were no other guards that he could see. Had the Jotuns killed them to? How many had invaded? Was the whole Palace occupied? Loki didn’t know the answer to these questions, all he knew was that he needed to see his Mother. It was childish, but his mind would not listen to sense. Loki needed to see his Mother, as though on some level, just being in her presence would make him safe.

He bolted down the familiar corridors, heading right for his parents’ private chambers. He didn’t notice that the door was already ajar, the terror and panic of the situation overtaking all other rational thought. He barrelled into the room, eyes wide and frantic.

“Mother! Mother there are -!” the rest of his words were choked off as the air was stolen from his lungs and the terror turned into horror.

“Ah, it seems I didn’t need to send my men after all. The little Prince has come to me all on his own.”

Loki stared. Stood looming over his Father’s bed was Laufey, the Jotun King. Loki easily recognised him from his brief time on Jotunheim. But now Loki knew that was not all Laufey was. For some reason, he couldn’t connect the being in front of him with the title of Father. That was a name that was reserved for Odin, but he couldn’t help but study the Jotun, after all, they shared blood. His wide shoulders and large body filling the chamber, the azure tone of his frost covered skin blending seamlessly with the shadows, cast by the low glow of the golden dome that covered the All-Father while he slept. A vicious smile cracked the Jotun’s face, he turned his whole body, so he was staring down at the stricken Prince, whose fear had rooted him to the spot. A large icy sword gripped in his hand. A guttural laugh filled the room and Loki shivered.

“How unfortunate for you,” the Jotun King spoke, stepping closer.  

Loki wanted to scream, cry, but his throat had closed up as his heart sped up, almost as though it would beat out of his chest. Should he talk to the Jotun? Tell him who he was, perhaps it would help? But the ideas were quickly dismissed, as Loki recalled the stricken look on his Mother’s face when he had told her of his first transformation into his Jotun form. How she had asked if the Jotun lived and seemed relieved when he told her they had not. There had to be some meaning to that. Plus, this was the creature that had left him to die as an infant, he should not expect mercy from such a being. Luckily, even though his mind was whirling with pointless ideas of talking his way out of the situation, his body reacted, turning to sprint out of the chamber, but that plan was swiftly aborted. Two Jotun’s filled the doorway, the same two that Loki saw near his chambers. They had most likely followed him when he ran. Escape blocked, Loki was forced once again face to face with Laufey, who smirked.

“It's said you can still see and hear what transpires around you, even in this state.” Laufey spoke while looking at Loki, but the Prince knew he wasn’t speaking to him. “I hope it's true, so that you may know your son’s death came by the hand of Laufey.” Loki could do nothing as the Jotun king grinned victoriously, lifting his sword, ready to bring it down and kill Loki where he stood.

The Prince stood there. He couldn’t run, he couldn’t hide, and his mind was so terrified that even if he could have managed to cast a spell strong enough to stop the Jotun, he wouldn’t have been able to. All he could do was close his eyes and hope that it wouldn’t hurt. He heard the Jotun grunt as he swung his heavy sword down, but it never reached Loki. A familiar feeling enveloped the Young Prince, spreading gentle warmth over his skin. It was soon followed by a clang and hiss right above his head. Flinching, Loki ducked down instinctively, but no bite of pain followed the noise.

“What the -?” the angry roar of Laufey had Loki peeking open his eyes, blinking he saw a faint shimmering, one that covered his entire body, stopping the ice sword from performing a killing blow.

“Get away from my child,” the quiet voice came from beyond the All-Father’s bed. Cool and calm, but with a hard edge of steel that was ready to bite down. Laufey turned and Loki could see past the Jotun, only to find his Mother, with a sword in her hand, eyes glowing as she cast the Seidr that now protected Loki.

“Mother!” he cried, moving to lunge himself at the woman.

“Be still, Loki!” the command stopped him in his tracks. He gaped at his Mother, but it was not his Mother who he saw. No, Queen Frigga stood before them, head high and regal as she stared down Laufey. Ready to defend her husband, child and Realm from any threat.

“You should not have interfered, woman,” Laufey growled, and with a lunge, threw himself at Frigga, icy sword bearing down on the Queen. Loki couldn’t hold it in any more, he screamed, tears starting to roll down his face. The Jotun was going to kill his Mother, the being that had sired him was going to kill the woman that had raised him and claimed him as a son, and there was nothing he could do about it. However, Frigga neatly stepped aside, gripping her sword tight in both hands, before meeting Laufey’s thrust with her own, blocking his sword so they were locked together.

Loki could do nothing as Laufey snarled in Frigga’s face, the Queen didn’t so much as flinch, only holding her ground, until she could slip out from beneath Laufey, overbalancing him to attack from the left.

As the Queen of Asgard and the King of Jotunheim continued to exchange blows, the Jotun’s that had been outside the door rushed in. Whether to help their King or not, Loki didn’t know, but they didn’t get far, before one of them had a sword protruding from its stomach. The blue creature gasped, before falling to the floor.

“My Queen!” Vern stood behind the downed Jotun, sword coated in blood as he stared wide eyed at the scene. Finally, he caught sight of Loki and gasped. “Young Prince?!”

“The Jotun’s want to kill the All-Father!” Loki shouted desperately. Vern’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded his head. “Get to cover,” he ordered, before engaging the second Jotun, who met him with an ice blade. Loki knew he should take the advice, maybe run and alert more guards. There had to be some the Jotun’s had not taken out.

A grunt followed by a high sharp cry had Loki whipping around to focus on his Mother once again. The sight caused his breath to catch in his throat. Laufey, using his superior height and strength, had backed the Queen up towards the All-Father’s bed. Frigga was breathing heavily, hands shaking a little as she gripped her sword. The Seidr shield quivered, and Loki gasped, able to recognise the signs of a failing casting.

“You cannot protect them both,” Laufey growled lowly. “Move aside and I may let you and the child live.” Frigga said nothing, only narrowed her eyes. Loki felt the Seidr around him strengthen, becoming almost visible. The Queen raised her sword.

“I would never back down to a murderer.” Laufey hissed, charging at Frigga, who had no choice but to take his blow. This time, Frigga couldn’t hold the block, and Laufey managed to throw her to the floor.

“Mother!” Loki yelled, but Laufey was already moving to strike the All-Father. Loki started to run, to do what, he didn’t know, but he couldn’t let the Jotun King kill the All-Father, kill his Father. With speed he didn’t know he had, he ran across the room intercepting the Jotun, placing himself before the All-Father, ready to take the blow. The Jotun didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate as he brought his weapon down.

“No!” the shout was followed by a body wrapping itself around Loki, then something wet and warm started to drip onto his night clothes. The smell of Frigga’s hair filled Loki’s nostrils, the folds of her dress obscured his vision, as the Queen had thrown herself between Loki and the ice blade, taking the blow.

“M…Mother?” Loki whispered. The Queen didn’t answer, only held him tighter, even as her strength failed.

“Loki,” her heard her muttered, a hand coming up to touch his hair. “Run.” Loki couldn’t stop his Mother from pushing him away, then she threw herself on top of the All-Father. A blinding light filled the room, Loki felt the Seidr that had surrounded him vanish, but it soon reappeared around the still forms of the All-Father and his Queen, along with the familiar gold dome that healed the All-Father while he slept.

“No!” Laufey screeched, lifting his sword which he could only bash against the Seidr shield. “No!”

“Queen Frigga!” Vern shouted, knocking the Jotun he had been fighting aside. Loki sank to his knees, he didn’t know what was happening, his Mother wasn’t moving, he couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. By the Norns was she dead? A crash followed by the sound of boots came into the room. Loki wasn’t surprised to see Erling, along with a few guards, rush into the room.

“What is this?” the Councillor hissed, sword in hand as he took in the chaos of the All-Father’s bed chamber.

“Erling,” Vern said, sounding relieved. He pushed himself away from the Jotun to come stand beside his fellow Councilman. “Thank the Norns. The Jotun King has tried to assassinate the All-Father. Queen Frigga was injured, but it appears she has protected the All-Father with her Seidr for now. She must live, or otherwise -” the rest of his words were cut off as Erling turned to him, stepping close, then thrusting the blade of his sword into his chest. Loki, on his knees, could only cover his mouth with his hand, wide eyed and frightened at the events that were happening around him.

Erling sighed as Vern began to choke, hands coming up to rest on the elder Councilman’s shoulders. “I can see that,” he said pushing the blade in further. Vern gasped, blood bubbling up from his mouth. Erling grunted as he shoved his fellow Asgardian from his blade, so he landed dead on the floor. He turned to the two Jotun’s, frowning. “What happened?”

“The bitch,” Laufey hissed. “She got between us.”

“I arranged your safe passage for you to do one simple thing,” Erling spoke, sounding just the same as if this was nothing more than one of the many meetings he held with the Council of Nine and the All-Father. He strolled closer to the Jotun King, who growled.

“I wasn’t expecting -” Laufey didn’t get to finish his sentence as Erling attacked, using the distraction to swing his blade and lop the Jotun’s King’s head clean off.

“No, you weren’t expecting anything.”

“My King!” the one remaining Jotun shouted, but he was quickly silenced by the guards that descended. Loki could do nothing but kneel there and stare, his mind not able to comprehend what was happening. He glanced back at the bed, the shield was strong around his Mother and Father. He couldn’t tell if Frigga was breathing, but part of his logical mind that was not frozen by terror, reminded him that she had to at least be live. Her Seidr would not be present if that wasn’t so. With that realisation he let out a shaky breath, the action however brought Erling’s attention to him.

“Prince Loki? What are you doing here?” Loki didn’t answer, but turned his face up to look at Erling, a scowl marring his already disfigured face.

“Erling,” he finally managed to croak out. “What’s going on?”

“You really shouldn’t have been here, Prince Loki,” Erling said, stepping over the Jotun King, blood dripping from his blade tip. “I gave you the sleeping potion so that your death would be painless. But then again, Jotun’s seem to be messing up most of my plans this day.” Loki swallowed, confusion and fear welling up in his chest as Erling advanced.

“What do you mean? I -”

“Let us cut the pretence, Prince Loki,” Erling snapped. “I know what you are, and you are not stupid, unlike your fool of a Brother. I think you can figure out what is happening here.” Loki’s ever buzzing mind, kicked into gear and all the observations that had been ignored up to this point, thanks to the roiling fear in his gut came to light. How the Jotun’s got in, the lack of guards, Erling killing Vern, then killing Laufey. He’d read about these sorts of things with his history tutors.

“A coup?” he whispered in disbelief, only for Erling to grin and nod.

“Very good, Prince Loki. That is indeed correct. And as I’m sure you know, when a coup is enacted, no one survives. No one.” Erling lunged, sword coming down with all the strength of a fully trained Asgardian warrior. Loki screamed, scrambling back, even as his Mother’s last words to him rattled in his brain.

_Run Loki._

A sizzle of Seidr spread up from his skin, Loki burned as it blasted out of him as his fear, terror and absolute horror overwhelmed him. A green wave erupted from the small Prince, catching Erling mid lunge, sending him flying back into the wall, along with the Guards.

_Run Loki._

He didn’t know whether it was a remnant of his Mother’s words or if she was truly speaking to him with her own mind, but Loki followed the directive. Scrambling to his feet, he dashed out of the chamber and into the corridors of the Royal quarters. He sprinted through the hallways, legs pounding as he fought to breath enough air into his lungs. His mind was in turmoil, he didn’t know what to do, only that he had to run, run as far as he could, or he’d be dead at the hand of one of his Father’s most trusted Councillor’s.

Loki exited the Royal chambers, unsurprised to find the Palace halls empty. It was still late into the night and the servants were asleep. There were no guards, most likely the work of Erling and his men. Now that Loki was further away, rational thought began to return to him. Taking a breath, the Prince concentrated, casting the ever-useful invisibility spell over himself. Now that he was a little more secure, he ducked into one of the many alcoves, used by the servants to catch his breath. He needed to reorganise, he needed to think.

Erling wanted to kill him. It was such a far-fetched thought that it almost made him laugh to think of it. He’d known Erling his whole life. As one of the Council of Nine, he was trusted implicitly by the All-Father. He was even their Spokesman, a position that elevated him even from the Council. He offered advice, helped rule Asgard, could possibly even rule in the King’s stead if he was unmarried with no heirs of age. Loki remembered how Laufey had spoken to him, like he knew him. That could only mean one thing. Erling had let the Frost Giants in, allowed them to get so close to the All-Father, hurt his Mother. Loki sobbed, covering his mouth quickly with a hand, to stop any more sounds, he couldn’t afford to be foolish now. Shaking away the tears, Loki refocused. If Erling had let the Frost Giants in this time, then did that mean he was the one that allowed them into the Vault? Loki couldn’t be sure on that, but it was one hell of a coincidence.

But what was Loki going to do now. He couldn’t stay in the Palace, with Erling’s men looking for him, possibly even going to kill him once he was found, it was best to get as far away as possible. But to where? The town close to the Palace was to obvious, no doubt they would be scouring it by morning, and the people would help. Erling only had to say he was looking for the missing Prince and people would be more than willing to help search for him out of concern. He didn’t want to risk the stables, even to claim Asta and ride out further, it was to much of a risk. What did that leave?

Thor would know what to do, was the sullen thought that came to mind, but with it, also came an idea. Thor, he needed to get to Thor, and there was only one place that would allow him to do that.

***

It had taken time for him to reach the Rainbow bridge. Erling had more men loyal to him than Loki had thought, they had already descended on the town, searching the back alleys and asking around the many Asgardians that were out in force at the taverns. Luckily, Loki’s invisibility spell had held, he’d even been able to steal some clothes from a washing line. He’d have to pay the family back after all this was sorted, but he couldn’t wander around in his night clothes.

Now, sporting boots, a tunic top that was far to big for him and a pair of breeches that were held up with a belt, Loki stalked out the entrance to the Rainbow Bridge. There was no one about, no citizens or guards. Loki breathed out a sigh of relief. Swiftly he darted from his cover, trying to keep his steps quiet, he began his long run along the Bridge, heading right for the Observatory.

As Loki got closer, he could only hope that Heimdall would allow him what he wished. The last he had spoken to the Gatekeeper, he had told Loki to stay out of the affairs that had so confused him with the Jotuns first breech into the Vault. But now, Loki really had no choice, hopefully Heimdall would see his point.

The Observatory loomed before him, silent and still, undisturbed by the chaos happening in Asgard. As Loki reached the arching entry way, he halted to catch his breath, then dismissed his spell.

“Heimdall!” he called, walking into the Observatory. “Heimdall? Are you there? I need to speak to you. Asgard has -” The rest of his words clogged in his throat. There, stood in the centre of the Observatory, sword over his head as though he was about to bring it down upon someone was the frozen form of Heimdall. And he truly was frozen, Loki could see the steam of the ice coming off him, coating his whole body. “Heimdall!” Loki cried, running over. He hesitated to touch the ice, but he could feel the cold against his fingertips. It felt just like the cold of Jotunheim, bone deep and chilling. Loki looked to Heimdall’s face, it was hard to see through the ice, but he could just make out the golden eyes. “Hei … Heimdall?” he asked. The Gatekeeper didn’t move, Loki took a deep breath, reaching out he touched the ice. Instantly his skin started to turn, the blue seeping from his fingers and up his arm. But with the touch, Loki could feel the faint pump, pump of the Asgardian’s heart. “Thank the Norns,” he whispered.

“Yes indeed, I had thought it would be more difficult to find you, but then again children are so predictable.”

Loki didn’t have time to even turn as a bolt of Seidr slammed into his side, knocking him away from Heimdall and skidding across the floor.

“Oh my, I thought for sure you would block that, what is your Mother teaching you.” The pain in Loki’s side made it hard for him to sit up. It hadn’t been a spell that had hit him, just a concentration of Seidr that could pack a punch harder than a well thrown axe. Wincing Loki levered himself into a kneeling position, so he could see his attacker.

“A…Amora?”

The female Seidr wielder smiled at him, wiggling her fingers from her place near the controls for the Bifrost. “Hi.”

“Amora, what are you …?”

“I thought that would be obvious, Prince Loki,” she said, sauntering her way closer, she paused as she passed Heimdall, looking down her nose at the Gatekeeper. “He’s looks better like this.”

“You’re working with him,” Loki whispered, Amora smirked.

“If by ‘him’ you mean Erling, well yes. I thought that was obvious.”

“But why?” Loki asked, pushing his feet under him to stand. “Why would you work with him, why would Erling even -” Amora giggled, tossing her head back so her long blonde hair swung down her back.

“Oh, my dear sweet Prince, this must be all so confusing for you. But don’t worry, it’s all for the best. The All-Father had to die, so Thor could be on the throne.”

“Thor,” Loki frowned. “But Thor’s banished, he -”

“That was nesseccary,” Amora waved her hand dismissively. “He couldn’t be here for the coup, it would turn Asgard against him. But Erling knew that if we allowed the Frost Giants to kill the All-Father, it would rouse Asgard to stand behind Thor and give him the war he so wants.”

Loki could only gape as Amora spoke, the smile never leaving her face. “But that’s … that’s madness Amora,” Loki said. “A war is the last thing the people want. Thor wouldn’t -”

“Oh, he would,” Amora cut him off, a dreamy smile coming over her face. “My Beloved thirsts for war, he craves it. You know this to be true.” Loki blinked, but couldn’t hold the smug gaze of the Sorceress. She was right, Thor loved to fight, he loved war. It was something Loki clearly remembered from his early childhood. He would regale Loki with tales of fights and how when he was King, he would bring glory to Asgard’s name.

“You see,” Amora said, voice soothing. “You know your Brother’s character, just as I do, and when he returns, I will be his Queen. Erling will see to it.” Any words Loki could come up with died in his throat as Amora lifted her hand, swirling golden tendrils of Seidr wrapping around her fingers, ready to be used.  “If you had just stayed in your room, I wouldn’t have to kill you now. But I’m sure my Beloved will understand, after all, you are nothing but a Frost Giant imposter, who killed his real Brother to get close to the Royal family and destroy Asgard.” With that, Amora threw a blast of Seidr at him. Loki had barely enough time to throw himself aside, as the Seidr cracked into the white stone of the Observatory, shattering it so a hole was left.

On instinct Loki cast the first spell that came to mind, the invisibility spell washed over him, and he dashed to try and find some additional cover.

“Oh, Prince Loki, are we going to be playing hide and seek?” Amora teased, eyes already searching the Observatory for him. “You really are such a trickster.” Suddenly, she shot off several bolts of Seidr, sending them around the room, in hopes that it would hit something.

Thankfully Loki had hidden behind one of the pillars, though it didn’t stop one of the bolts from hitting it, cracking the stone work and making him flinch.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Loki knew that he couldn’t face Amora head to head in a Seidr battle. She was more experienced, her Seidr more mature and her spell knowledge was larger. But Loki knew that all of that didn’t mean he couldn’t get away. It was one of the first lessons Tyr had taught him. If you can’t fight, run until you know you will win. He needed to run but getting passed Amora would be difficult. Maybe with the invisibility –

Another bolt hit the pillar, shocking him so that he yelped.

“There you are!” Amora cried triumphantly, sending even more Seidr bolts in his direction. Loki was forced to run for it, if he made it to the Rainbow Bridge, he might be able to make it out before she –

Something hit him in the back, sending him sprawling and shattering his spell. Loki gasped and spun, getting back to his feet with difficulty to stare wide eyed at Amora, who was grinning at him.

“I must admit, your invisibility spell is good,” her eyes narrowed, and she sniffed the air. “But I can still smell your Seidr, and I have to admit, if you were allowed to grow you could be one of the most powerful Seidr uses in the Nine Realms.”

Loki wasn’t listening though, he was panicking. How was he going to get out of this, he was outmatched and out-powered. But he couldn’t just kneel over and die for them. He didn’t want to die. He wanted to see his Mother, Father and Brother again. At the thought of Thor he couldn’t help but remember his desolate devastation at the loss of Mjolnir. And he would be alone on Midgard, with no clue as to what was happening in Asgard. If he let Amora kill him, Thor would be led to believe that Frost Giants had killed Mother and Father and he was –

“Goodbye, Prince Loki.” Amora flicked her hand, sending her Seidr, charged to kill right at him. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and reached for his own Seidr, much like when he had first started to learn of his power. Hoping that it would do something, anything. He just needed to get away from here.

He didn’t see the green glow that surrounded him, nor the way his Seidr spiked, blocking Amora’s Seidr bolt so that disintegrated into nothing. Amora gasped, shocked at the display from the child, but Loki’s Seidr wasn’t done. It wrapped around its host, the green glow becoming stronger, until the boy was obscured from view. Then with a final flare, Prince Loki vanished.        


	6. Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! And welcome to this penultimate chapter of this story! Hope your all loving it and are excited as we make our way towards the end. As always thanks to everyone who is reading, bookmarking, leaving kudos and comments (I always adore comments) let me know what you make of this! 
> 
> Cheers! D.S X
> 
> P.S Again I've been editing but this one had some other issues though, as it was mentioned that Coulson and Barton sounded too British. If that's so then I'm sorry, I'm British and I fall back on the speech I'm familiar with. I've taken some slang terms out and hopefully that will help. XX

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 6 **

 

“You really shouldn’t keep your eyes closed like that, you never know what might be coming up behind you.”

Loki flinched, startled at the unfamiliar voice. He spun, snapping his eyes open, only to have to shut them quickly as blinding light burned his irises.

“Do be careful doing that, the branches of Yggdrasil are a difficult sight to behold when first looked upon.”

Loki blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. He should be dead. He was sure that Amora had thrown a Seidr bolt at him. It should have struck by now, and surely that would be painful. But the lack of it confused him, seeming to contradict what he knew should be true.

Eventually, after much rapid blinking and the subtly reaching out of his Seidr to check that he was, truly still alive, he managed to get his bearings, so he could see clearly, but that only furthered his shock and confusion. Loki was no longer in the Observatory, the white stone building that housed the Bifrost was completely gone, instead it was replaced with a never-ending sea of white. It stretched before Loki in every direction, surrounding him and making the Young Prince feel uneasy. Every now and then however he caught a glimpse of colour, it flowed through the white land scape, much like the Rainbow Bridge in Asgard, which continuously pulsed with its creators Seidr.

“Very good to make that comparison young one, not many people do.” The voice brought Loki out of his thoughts. Spinning, he realised he was stood on some sort of pathway, though it seemed to only appear beneath his feet. A small platform, a glowing green colour.

Stood behind him on her own black platform, was an old woman. She was hunched, with white hair that fell down her wrinkled face. A black cloak covered her stooped body, a cane held in one hand which he used to support her weight. She smiled at Loki, revealing yellowed teeth, with a few gaps among them.

“It is good to see you again, Prince Loki.”

The Young Prince flushed, “Erm, I’m sorry my Lady, but have we met before?”

The crone laughed, a harsh sound that made Loki’s ears twitch. “I apologise, I forget that you’ve not all met us before.”

“Who are you?” Loki asked, glancing around the strange unfamiliar land in concern. “Where am I?”

“You are on one of the many smaller branches that make up Yggdrasil,” the Crone answered with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “Though I must say, your aim could do with some work, a few steps to the left and you would have tumbled right into the Void between worlds.” She shook her head, eyes narrowed like a reprimanding tutor, but Loki wasn’t paying attention to her any more, his mind still caught on the first part of her statement.

“B…branches? Yggdrasil?!” his pitch got higher as he stared wide eyed.

“Of course, where did you think your Skywalk would take you?”

“Skywalk?!” Loki would have fainted, but something soft and warm washed over his head. It was like being enveloped in a bath after a hard day of training. The tension eased from his muscles, his heart slowed down and his mind relaxed, all against his will. He blinked, swaying a little, though he managed to keep his feet. “What the -?”

“There, that’s much better,” the Crone smiled, which looked far more sinister than reassuring.

“What did you just do to me?” Loki demanded.

“A simple calming spell, nothing to fret over, Young Prince,” the Crone waved away his question, which would have raised Loki’s ire, if the spell would have allowed that.

“Well excuse me for being shocked when I’ve just been told I’ve Skywalked. Something which no Seidr user has ever achieved!”

“That’s not strictly true,” the Crone contradicted. “Many Seidr users travel the branches, though they normally require a Seidr enhanced object.”

“It still amounts to the same.”

“Semantics, Young Prince,” the Crone smirked, and Loki, unable to get irritated, thanks to the calming spell, crossed his arms and huffed.

“So, I Skywalked,” Loki mused aloud as he ignored the Crone before him. “So Amora didn’t kill me.”

“Indeed not, Young Prince,” the Crone spoke. “It would be most unfortunate for one such as you to be vanquished by the likes of her.”

“What do you mean?” Loki asked, green eyes hard. “Who are you anyway? You don’t feel like an Asgardian.” It had been easy to ignore in the instance of first meeting her, but now that Loki was processing what was happening, the reaction of his Seidr to the woman was becoming much more pronounced. It seemed to be reaching out to her, as though trying to latch on. But Loki could sense something, whether it was her Seidr or not, Loki felt there was more to this Crone that what he could see.

The Crone laughed, a deep chuckle that Loki was sure made the platform beneath his feet rattle. “Oh, I do forget how amusing you can be. You have always been one of our favourites.”

“What -?” Loki started, but the Crone held up her palm, silencing him.

“Do not concern yourself, Young Prince Loki. You are correct, I am not Asgardian, nor am I from any of the Nine realms, or beyond.”

“That’s not possible.”

“But it is,” the Crone smiled, spreading her hands, gesturing to the white landscape. “We are a creature of Yggdrasil, birthed and bred here. And it is where we shall remain.” Loki frowned, his mind ticking as he listened to her speech, until something clicked.

“You … you’re a Norn,” he whispered, voice tinted in awe. The Crone didn’t answer, but Loki didn’t need her to. Quickly he tucked his feet close together, bending at the waist so that he was bowed low, eyes averted, as his Mother had taught him.

“I am humbled to be in your presence,” he said, trying and failing to keep his voice from squeaking. The Crone, now identified as a Norn, laughed.

“Humility is a look we thought we would never see on you,” she mumbled. “We knew this was a good idea.”

“What -?”

“Thank you, Young Prince,” the Norn said before he could question her further. “We are pleased to be in your presence also, though we think you had more pressing concerns before being distracted.” Her words had Loki’s brain kicking back into gear. She was right, he had much more important concerns, like what had happened on Asgard.

“Erling,” he muttered, brow furrowed. “He’s staging a coup.”

“One, that for all intents and purposes, was going quiet well.”

“Was?”

“You’re still alive,” the Norn explained. “As well as the rest of the Royal family. Not exactly the standard for a successful coup.”

“Mother and Father are still alive?” Loki asked, hope and desperation clear on his face.

“Of course, Young Prince,” the Norn smiled, waving a hand. The white landscape began to shift, the darts of colour merging together, until an image was formed before the pair. One of a very familiar bed chamber.

“Mother!” Loki called, feet taking several steps towards the bed. But as he neared, he found the image distorted, as though a lens had gone out of focus. A tiredness swept through his body, making it difficult to take more than a few steps. Though the platform that was under he feet followed him, disappearing in his wake as he moved forward.

“Be careful, Young Prince,” the Norn admonished, coming up beside him. “Walking the branches of Yggdrasil is no easy feat, especially when relying solely on your own Seidr.” Loki would have said something catty, but he hardly had any breath to spear. “There is no need for you to get closer, this is merely an image, conjured through our will and the Seidr of Yggdrasil.” Loki wished that he could question her more, he was fascinated by what she was saying, but a sound caught his interest. He turned back to the image, only to see Erling carrying Gungnir and Amora, stood before the King’s bed. The golden dome was still covering both the Royal’s, Frigga slumped against her husband where she had thrown herself over him.

“Can you break it?” Loki heard Erling speak. His face was blank as he watched Amora step closer, a hand reaching out to touch the dome. A spark ignited beneath her fingers though, burning them fiercely so she hissed.

“This is powerful Seidr,” she said, a pout twisting her lips. “The Queen used raw energy in its creation.”

“Can you break it?” Erling repeated, and Amora shook her head.

“Seidr like this either has to dissipate on its own, be banished by one with greater or similar power or the Seidr user has to recall it.” Erling cursed, picking up one of the delicate objects that dotted the Royal couples private chambers, throwing it against a wall. Amora didn’t so much as twitch as she watched him.

“Calm down.”

“Calm down?” Erling spat, face furious. “Exactly how should I do that, when my plans are being destroyed before my eyes.”

“We still have time, Thor has not -”

“This is not just about Thor,” Erling growled fingers gripping the golden spear tight. “The people are being to ask questions. Alviss has already started to make inquires with the Palace staff.” Loki couldn’t help but grin a little. Good old Alviss, he thought, Loki always knew there was a reason he was the House of Odin’s Steward. “There is only so long that I can keep them under control, and if this gets out to the people -”

“This will be dealt with before it comes to -”

“If you had managed to kill the Jotun runt, this would not be a problem,” Erling hissed, stopping Amora short. The Seidr user stiffened, face shuttering as she glared at the Councillor.

“I wasn’t expecting him to call on raw Seidr.”

“Seems to be a habit of the Royal family,” Erling scowled. “Though what use are you if you cannot combat it?” It was Amora’s turn to huff, drawing herself up to her full height, which was considerable.

“You wouldn’t have gotten this far with your coup if it wasn’t for me,” she sneered. “Who created the Pathway to allow the Frost Giant’s into the Vault? Who drew Thor’s sycophants away?” Loki’s eyes widened. The Warrior’s Three and Sif were gone? No wonder he had not seen them, and that their horses had been missing from the stable.

“They are with Thor on Midgard, not exactly as far from the proceedings as I would have wished,” Erling snapped back, to which Amora waved a hand.

“I could not have convinced them to go anywhere else, they are devoted to Thor. At least they were not on Asgard when you staged all this.”

“At least,” Erling repeated, but did not argue with the Seidr user.

“As for the Young Prince, he most likely teleported, he has to be on Asgard somewhere.”

“Hmm,” Erling said, turning away from Amora to stare at the Royal couple on the bed. “We may have to speed things along. If my men can’t find the Young Prince, it may be best to bring Thor back to Asgard sooner.”

Loki saw Amora’s face light up. “You can resend the All-Father’s banishment?”

“I can circumvent it,” Erling said thoughtfully. “According to the wording, Thor must prove himself worthy. I will give him that opportunity.” Amora grinned, eyes far away, before she snapped back to reality.

“Then you will announce our marriage?”

“Of course, Amora,” Erling replied, not looking at her. “With you as his Queen, Thor will be easy to mould to our will.”

“It’s not his will I’m that interested in,” she smiled lustfully.

“Indeed,” Erling said, turning back to her. “Continue searching for the little Prince. If he teleported with raw Seidr, he should be to weak to cast any spells to hide his presence for long.”

“And you?”

“I’ll deal with Thor,” was all he said. Amora frowned at him, but nodded, walking out. Erling stayed where he was, before stretching out his own hand, only to be repelled by Frigga’s Seidr. He hissed, “oh yes, I’ll deal with him, and the Jotun bastard. When both of you wake, you’ll be able to join your son’s in the great beyond.” The smile that graced Erling’s face was terrifying. Loki shivered, but couldn’t stop his mouth from opening to issue a shout.

“No!” He called, but the image he had been watching suddenly shimmered, disappearing so the white landscape of Yggdrasil was all that remained. Loki whirled on the Norn, who was stood serenely beside him. “Bring it back! I need to hear more! Erling -”

“Plans to complete his coup. Did you truly think that he would let Thor live?” the Norn raised an eyebrow and Loki felt chastised. It was logical, coups did not allow any of the old ruling monarchy to live. That provided a symbol for the people to rally behind, leading to more war and lives lost. Erling would be stupid to allow such a thing to happen.

“But he said to Amora -”

“She is merely a tool,” the Norn waved a hand dismissively. “If she allowed herself to be deceived, then that is her failing. Though Erling was clever to play on her obvious fascination with the Crown Prince, it provided him with a powerful ally.”

Loki had to agree with that. Amora was one of the most powerful Seidr users in the Nine Realms and her reputation was well deserved. But if that was the case, it was vitally important that Loki reach Thor before Erling was able to enact whatever plan he had in mind.

“I need to get to Midgard,” Loki said, sounding more determined than he felt. He glanced around, before turning back to the Norn. “Can you point me the way?” The Norn stared at him before throwing back her head and laughed.

“Oh, you do entertain us so,” she shook her head as she regained her composure. “It’s rather refreshing to see you like this, we wonder now what kind of man you will become.”

“Please,” Loki pleaded, not wanting to be caught in the Norn’s riddles. “Can you just tell me -”

“You do not need a direction Young Prince,” the Norn interrupted him smoothly, much to Loki’s annoyance. “These are the branches of Yggdrasil, created and maintained by Seidr more powerful than can be conceived. As a child of that Seidr, it will respond to you.”

Loki frowned, mind thinking over her words. It should respond to him? In what way? Did he have to speak his destination aloud? Maybe just think it and it will take him there? That seemed to simple, if this was Yggdrasil, there surely had to be more to it than that.

The soft chuckle of the Norn brought him out of his thoughts, her eyes were sparkling with mirth as she watched him, which only further Loki’s irritation. “What? Why are you laughing? Don’t you know how serious this is? This is my family and I have no idea how -”

“You always think that things are more complex than they seem,” the Norn said, before reaching out a ruffling the child’s hair. Loki watched her stunned, he was being touched by a Norn, a real Norn. There was not many on the Nine Realms that could say that they had even met one, and now Loki was face to face with one of these beings. For the first time, Loki wondered which Norn she was. She was most likely a lesser Norn, a messenger for the Three Sister’s who sat at the roots of Yggdrasil. “Yggdrasil is Seidr, Young Prince,” the Norn went on to explain. “It will respond to the will of your own, allowing you to travel as you wish.”

Loki puzzled out this new knowledge. His Seidr? Yggdrasil should respond to his Seidr? On impulse he reached for his. It was like embracing his Mother, warm and comforting, it flooded his senses, wrapping around him before extending out beyond his body. As it did though, Loki felt a tug. He winced, pulling back slightly. Something was trying to pull on his Seidr. He hesitated before he slowly extended it once more. The tug came again, though not as strong. Loki concentrated, reaching out with his senses to see if he could feel anything. What he found made him gasp. It was like a well, a deep dark well that contained nothing but pure Seidr. If Loki allowed it to, it would swallow him up, causing him to disappear beneath the heavy intoxicating power. Gasping he opened his eyes, the Norn was watching him, a smile on her face.

“It’s … it’s amazing.”

“Indeed,” the Norn said, amused at his awe.

“It could destroy me.”

“All power can destroy it’s wielder, it’s the price the powerful have to pay.”

“I can’t control that,” Loki muttered, nervousness starting to make itself clear. “How can I get that amount of Seidr to respond to me, without it swallowing me up. It’s impossible.” The Norn sighed, the cane held in her hand slamming into the platform beneath her feet.

“Do I have to reschool you in your basics, Young Prince. You should know the first lesson a Seidr user must learn.”

Loki forced himself not to take a step back, instead bending his thoughts to what the Norn had said. A memory came to mind, one with his Mother. Both were sat in her private office, where she had instructed Loki on his first lessons of Seidr.

_“Will, it is the most important aspect to any Seidr user, and not something that can be taught.”_

_“What do you mean, Mother?”_

_“A Seidr user must have a strong force of Will, if not they will be destroyed by their own Seidr.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Seidr needs a focus. A task, a goal. If it is directionless, it will turn inward and destroy the caster. That is the price of Seidr.”_

As the memories of that time with his Mother filled him, Loki thought about what his goal was. He needed to find Thor. He needed to get to Midgard. If not, it was only a matter of time before Erling sent someone or something to kill his brother. And Thor would be killed. He was mortal now, banished by their Father, who himself could do nothing to help them. Loki had to do something, he had to get to Midgard to warn Thor, even if he had to be swallowed by Yggdarsil’s Seidr to do it.

“Very good, Young Prince. We knew you would be able to achieve it with a push.”

Loki opened his eyes, confused. The Norn was smiling at him, glancing to his feet. Loki followed her gaze and found that the green glowing platform that had been beneath his feet had changed. It was no longer barely big enough for him to stand on, it now stretched far ahead, disappearing into the white landscape and out of sight. Loki blinked, then his face broke into a blinding smile. He turned to the Norn. “I did it?” he gasped in disbelief.

“Indeed,” the Norn nodded her head and Loki couldn’t help but jump up and down a little in celebration.

“I did it! I did it!” he would have whooped, but a tug in his Seidr had him gasping, it wasn’t like when he was first feeling out Yggdrasil. It was stronger, sharper and it sucked his Seidr away in an instant.

“What the -?” he muttered, as he steadied himself. His Seidr was still there, but it had been depleted.

“You will not have much time now,” the Norn spoke. “Yggdrasil will take your Seidr, the longer you delay.”

“What?” Loki gaped, but the Norn wasn’t concerned with his fear.

“Followed the path. It will take you to Midgard,” she pointed off down the glowing pathway. Loki followed her finger, drawing himself up in determination.

“Yes, alright. Thank you by the -” as he glanced behind, he found the Norn was gone, disappeared as quickly as she had come. “Huh?” he looked around, there was no other pathway that he could see. How had she vanished so quickly? At another tug on his Seidr, Loki swiftly refocused. Fixing his sights on the path he started to run, feet pounding as he made his way further through Yggdrasil and to Midgard. And Thor.

***

Loki couldn’t even fathom how long he ran along his glowing green pathway. It seemed to stretch on endlessly in the vast white space that was the branches of Yggdrasil. Well the white space wasn’t exactly that vast. As he moved forward, he caught a glimpse of the swirling colours that drifted through. Occasionally he swore he could see images forming, though they were distorted or so faded it was hard for Loki to make them out. The Young Prince wondered if those were pathways to other worlds, places beyond the Nine Realms. But he didn’t stop to study them. He had a mission and from the still insistent pull on his Seidr he had best not to dawdle.

Eventually, something emerged ahead. Much like what Loki had seen around him, it was a swirling mass of colours, the image was hard to make out, but Loki was sure he could see brown, or yellow. He frowned, he had thought Midgard had more forests, that’s what his Brother had told him when he had gone down all those many centuries ago.

Not stopping to think Loki picked up his pace, closing his eyes as he pushed his way through the swirling mass, the pathway beneath his feet vanishing as he did so. The drain on his Seidr disappeared, though it revealed how much the Skywalk had cost Loki, it would be a while before he could cast even a simple summoning spell. The next thing that hit him was the heat. It struck him with the fierce intensity of a lightening bolt, making sweat start to pour out of his skin, soaking his borrowed clothes. The ground beneath his feet was soft, it shifted under his weight and Loki had to stop his run, in order to keep steady, otherwise he would have ended up flat on his face. Taking in a lungful of air, Loki took in his surroundings.

“This is Midgard?” he muttered in confusion. A desert, he was in the middle of a desert, sand dunes rose ahead of him, rolling onward towards the horizon. The sky was a bright blue, with hardly any clouds, making the scorching heat of the sun worse, as there was little shade. Loki spun, wiping his hair out of his face. Where was he? He thought the pathway would lead him to where Thor was, much like the Bifrost. Luckily a dark smudge caught his eye. He narrowed his gaze, focusing so he could bring it into a little more focus. A small village was in the middle of the desert, with rough looking buildings that barely made up a quarter of the Royal Palace.

“Thank the Norns,” Loki whispered, and he started to make tracks towards it. He needed to get out of the heat, he could swear his skin was already blistering. He winced as his boots slipped beneath him, slowing his progress. He had never dealt well with heat, always overheating even in the mildest of weather. “Must be a Frost Giant thing,” Loki mumbled to himself. It made sense, Frost Giants were creatures of ice and snow, it was only logical that they would struggle when in intense heat.

He walked onwards, sweat dripping from his hair and into his eyes. the sand covered landscape hazed a little, and Loki had to shake his head to clear the spots from his vision. His limbs felt heavier, his feet dragging in the sand as he forced them forward. His mouth was dry, and he licked his lips, but there was no spit in his mouth. “By the Norn’s Thor, why did you have to land here,” he muttered. Normally Loki would have been able to keep most of these effects at bay. His Seidr granting him a reprieve, but with it practically depleted, he was forced to endure. But he wasn’t sure he would be able to make it to the village at this rate, before he collapsed.

As Loki thought that he was about to face plant in the sand a noise erupted behind him. Startled, Loki turned, but that was enough for him to finally loose his balance and fall into the sand. Sprawled out on the hot surface, Loki panted, the heat making breathing difficult. The noise got closer though, it was coming towards him at a speed that surprised Loki. What kind of being could make such a noise? It was similar to the growl of a Bilgesnipe, low and rumbling. There was surely none of those foul beasts on Midgard?

“Whoa, whoa!” a voice called and suddenly the growling ceased. Loki frowned, was someone controlling the beast? “What are you doing out here, kid?” Loki blinked as a dark shape come to hover over him. He squinted, trying to bring it into focus, but it just kept swimming away. The shape peered closer, before rearing back. “Shit, he’s got heat stroke. Someone give me some water.”

The shape disappeared for a moment, only to return, with something in its hand. It came down until it was beside Loki, and the Young Prince jumped when something cool touched his lips. “Take a drink, you need it.” Loki didn’t need any encouragement. He opened his mouth and accepted the cool water gratefully. After a couple of sips, Loki felt his body respond, and most importantly his Seidr. It roared back to life briefly, filling Loki’s body with much needed energy, enough to combat the heat. Invigorated, Loki surged forward, grabbing at the container which held the water, snatching it from whatever had offered it to him, tipping it back and drinking swiftly.

“Hey, don’t drink it to fast or you’ll make yourself sick,” a protest came. Loki ignored them, finishing the water, even going so far as to lick up the dregs. Sated, he dropped the container, wiping his mouth.

“That’s better.”

“Damn, Kid, you need to be careful or you’ll make yourself worse.” Loki turned, finally able to see the being which had saved him. They were sort, even for their species, which Loki was positive was Midgardian. With hair cut sort, close to their head, with bright blue eyes which gazed at Loki with concern. The Prince studied the Midgardian, he was fairly certain it was a male, black leathers covered their body, with boots that had no trouble gripping the sand beneath them. But what truly intrigued Loki was the bow strapped across his back.

The Midgardian leaned closer to him, seeming to investigate Loki’s face, brows furrowed. “You ok Kid? Feeling sick, dizzy?” Loki blinked, getting his brain back into gear. He took in his surroundings, there were a few other Midgardians, they were sat in a black … well Loki wasn’t sure if it was a being or a piece of technology. The slight growling, he could hear from it made him believe it was more alive than not. The Midgardian’s were watching the scene with curious eyes, but none had approached, unlike their comrade. Loki shook his head. This was not the time to be sitting idle. He needed to find Thor. He stood up, even as the Midgardian protested. “Don’t get up yet, you might -”

“I am perfectly fine,” Loki snipped, though he tried to keep his tone polite, the Midgardian had saved him after all. He bowed, just as his tutors had instructed him when dealing with dignitaries. “Thank you for your assistance.” And with that he walked passed the Midgardian and on towards the village.

“Hey, wait,” the Midgardian called after him, and Loki winced as a hand fell on his shoulder, spinning him back to face the now angry Midgardian. “You can’t just walk off like that.”

Loki raised an eyebrow and huffed. “I thanked you for your help, but I need to be leaving now.”

“Where are you going?”

“The village?” Loki pointed at the still dark smudge on the horizon. The Midgardian eyes tracked the movement.

“Village?” he asked, soundly mildly confused. “You mean Puente Antiguo?”

It was Loki’s turn to frown. He didn’t know the name of the village Thor had gone to, only that it was on Midgard. He shrugged, which only made the Midgardian narrow his eyes, then he shook his head.

“Sorry, kid. I can’t just let you walk through the desert by yourself.” The hand reached for Loki again, and the Young Prince froze. He couldn’t let this Midgardian detain him. He needed to get to Thor, and he was running out of time. He tensed, ready to defend himself, he may not have his Seidr, but he still had his basic training. However, he didn’t get a chance to do a thing, as another roar broke over the scene. Loki flinched, moving behind the Midgardian even as he and his comrades turned to see another black beast approach. It skidded over the sand, kicking up dust in its wake as it came nearer. Soon it was upon them.

“Agent Barton, what’s going on here?” Loki watched in shock as part of the black beast came down, revealing yet another Midgardian, only this one was familiar. It was the same man that had spoken to Thor, when Loki and Heimdall had been watching. He had dark spectacles covering his eyes, but Loki could tell that his gaze was fixed on him.

“Sorry sir,” Loki glanced at the Midgardian, Barton, he was stood at attention, shoulders back and spine stiff. “We found the Kid in the sand, overheated.”

“In the middle of the desert?”

“Yes sir.”

The Midgardian hummed, pulling back into the shadows. Suddenly part of the black beast moved, revealing its innards. Loki tried to keep his expression blank, but it was difficult. It was so fascinating, Loki had to wonder what kind of creatures lived on Midgard. The Midgardian, Loki racked his brain’s and finally dredged up his name, Coulson, stepped from the beast and walked across the sand to him and Barton. Loki watched him, eyes intent, though he had to hide his surprise when Coulson knelt before him, a soft smile on his lips.

“What are you doing out here?”

Loki kept still, mind whirling as he ran through his options. He could tell the truth, reveal who he was. These Midgardians may help him, he was Royalty after all. He quickly dismissed that plan however; the Midgardians would be more likely to think he was delusional. Then that meant lying, but in this situation, it would be hard to come up with anything concrete and believable. That left option three. A little bit of both.

“I got lost,” Loki whispered, trying to inject as much fear and confusion into his voice as possible. He even went so far as to widen his eyes and tremble his lip. “I was looking for my Brother, but I must have wandered off to far. I was trying to make my way back to town,” he nodded at the village, hitching his breath. “B…but it was just so hot, and I collapsed.” He turned his eyes to Barton, welling up tears. “He saved me.”

Barton shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. Loki held in his smirk as Coulson continued to watch him. The Midgardian didn’t speak, only stared at him through those dark spectacles. Loki kept up the act, hoping it would be enough to convince him. Eventually the Midgardian reached out and ruffled Loki’s hair.

“I see,” he said, a smile on his face. “Well it’s a good thing Agent Barton came across you then.” Loki nodded his head earnestly and Barton cleared his throat.

“Couldn’t just leave the kid,” he muttered, cheeks pinking.

“But it’s dangerous out here,” Coulson said to Loki, eyebrow raised. “I doubt your brother would have wanted you to place yourself in danger just to look for him.”

Loki internally disagreed with the Midgardian but nodded his head anyway. Coulson smiled, then stood up.

“We can’t have you walking back to town, I’ll arrange a lift.” He gestured to one of the beasts and the Midgardians sat within it started to get out.

“Sir, I thought you wanted all units -” the glare Coulson sent Barton’s way silenced him. Loki wondered just what they were all doing out here but didn’t dare to question them. Once all but the driver of the black beast was out, Coulson escorted Loki closer, urging him to get inside. Loki hesitated for but a moment, then held his breath and climbed in. It smelt of sweat, leather and metal. Loki again had to wonder what kind of creature it was, but Coulson was sitting him down, clipping a belt into place around him.

“Ricks will take you back to town,” Coulson said, which was confirmed by a nod from the driver. “Try and stay out of the desert from now on, ok?”

“Ok,” Loki copied the word, smiling. “Thank you.” Coulson nodded, and Barton gave a wave from behind him.

“Take care,” Coulson added, a slight grin on his face. “I’m sure you’ll find your brother. What’s his name by the way?”

“Thor,” Loki answered, unaware of the stillness that came over Coulson and the confusion of Barton.

“Thor,” Coulson repeated. “That’s an interesting name. I’m sure if you ask around, you’ll find him in no time.” He stepped back, slamming the side of the beast back into place. The roar swiftly followed, and Loki gripped the leather he was sat on tightly as the being started to move, picking up speed so the desert passed by in the blink of an eye. Once he’d settled himself again, Loki curiously glanced around, shocked that he could see outside through parts of the beast’s side.

“What kind of creature is this?” he asked in awed wonder.

“This is a Lexus kid, GX model,” the driver answered, and Loki frowned.

“Lexus? What an odd name. Do you name all of your black beasts thus?”

***

Loki was grateful when they arrived into town. The driver, Ricks had been looking at him oddly. He had no idea why, he was merely inquiring further about the Lexus beasts. He truly thought it was impossible for a being to be made of metal, but then again, he had never been to Midgard before. He was dropped off in the middle of the villiage, Ricks told him he could ask around the shops for his Brother, they may have seen him. Loki thanked him, watching as he drove off, back towards the desert. Alone once again, Loki took a moment to look around. The village, Puente Antiguo as Barton had called it, looked old. With buildings that would surely have been condemned if they were on Asgard. There were hardly any people, and those that Loki did see merely walked from one building to another, keeping to the shade that they offered. Loki worried his lip. He had hoped that Thor would be there, his Brother was such a big personality, it surely would not be too hard. Deciding to take Ricks advice, Loki headed to one of the buildings. Pushing open the door his nose was assaulted by a horrid stench, of piss, faeces and straw.

“Afternoon,” Loki saw a Midgardian. He was stood behind a desk, at the end of a room that was dominated by cages that housed more animals than Loki had ever seen. “Are you looking for anything today?”

Stepping further inside, Loki glanced at the animals. Such small things, and they seemed so sad. Loki wondered if all Midgardians caged their creatures, if so, it was no wonder that Father had banned travel here. Such barbarianism.

“I’m looking for my Brother,” Loki said, eyeing the Midgardian warily. “I just wondered if you had seen him.”

The Midgardian frowned, “your brother’s missing?” he asked, and Loki nodded. “Not had anyone in looking for a kid, what’s he look like?”

“Tall, big, he has blonde hair, a bread and blue eyes.” The man tapped the desk, deep in thought, suddenly he stiffened, and he gaped wide eyed at Loki.

“You don’t mean the guy asking for a horse?” Before Loki could reply however a voice came shouting from the street.

“You don’t understand, Thor?!”

“Sif?” Loki mumbled, turning to look through the large window, back out into the street. They were pretty far away, further than a Midgardian would be able to make out. But Loki had no trouble. The group of seven were clustered together, stood on the walkway, seeming to be arguing over something. Loki easily recognised the Asgardian armour, it glinted in the sun along with the various swords and axes. But it wasn’t that which made his breath catch and his heart speed up. It was the bright blonde hair of a man, half hidden by the other members of the group, turned slightly away from him.

“Thor?” Loki whispered, before dashing out of the building, ignoring the calls of the Midgardian. “Thor!”

The group must have heard the shout, as they turned, eyes widening at the child running full speed towards them.

“By the Norns.”

“It can’t be.”

“Impossible.”

“Loki?”

The Young Prince almost burst into tears. Thor pushed his way through the Warrior’s Three and Sif, who were gaping at the sight of him. Thor wasn’t much better, face an ashen colour, and mouth wide open as Loki continued to run at him. Suddenly though, it morphed into a wide smile and a deep laugh that filled Loki’s chest with joy.

“Loki!” Thor called, sprinting the short distance that remained between them, catching Loki in a fierce hug, lifting him clean off his feet to spin him around. Loki’s smile would have split his face in two, but he didn’t care. He laughed, happy just to be with his Brother after all that had happened.

“Thor! Thor,” was all he could say, wrapping his arms as far around the Asgardian as possible, squeezing him for all he was worth. Eventually Thor stop the spinning, setting Loki back on his feet, though he didn’t once let go of him. Loki buried his face into Thor’s chest, breathing in his scent. It hadn’t changed, strong and heady and so uniquely his Brother that Loki wanted nothing than to stay like this forever. He was safe now, now he was with Thor he was sure everything would be better. 

“Who’s that?” Loki heard an unfamiliar voice ask.

“What’s a kid doing here?”

“You don’t think that’s his son, do you?”

“Thor get away from him!” the screech was followed by Thor being wrenched away from Loki. Then the Young Prince was kicked hard in the stomach, sending him sprawling on the hard dirt.

“Oh my god!”

“Did she just hit a kid?”

“Loki!” Thor called. Loki winced, sitting up. Sif was glaring down at him, a sword pulled and pointing at his throat. Thor was being held back by Hogan and Volstagg, but he was fighting furiously. “Sif, what in the Norns do you think you’re doing?”

“That’s not your Brother Thor,” Sif hissed, venom dripping from every word. She stepped closer, so that the tip of her sword was pressed into Loki’s flesh. “It’s nothing but a filthy Jotun.”

Loki flinched, though it had more to do with the sword digging into his neck than the accusation. How had Sif found out he was a Jotun? He was sure she hadn’t seen his skin change on Jotunheim, she wouldn’t have been able to keep it to herself. Then how did she know.

“You’re lying Sif,” Thor bellowed, though he was having little luck in pulling himself free from his friends. “Loki is my Brother, has been his entire life. There is no possible way -”

“It’s true, Thor,” Hogan muttered, voice it’s usual grim tone. “Amora showed us with her Seidr, that’s why we had to come and warn you. This Jotun imposter was using your Brother’s likeness to kill your Father.”

Thor shook his head, but he wasn’t shouting anymore. Loki finally managed to get himself under control and he glared angrily at Sif.

“That’s a lie. It’s Amora who’s plotting to kill Father and Mother. Her and Erling have already staged a coup -”

“I won’t let your poison infect the Royal family anymore,” Sif growled, lifting her sword away, to bring it back for a killing strike. “Die Jotun!”

Loki could do nothing, winded and without his Seidr he was helpless but to let his Brother’s friend kill him. However, before the strike could land, someone stepped into its path, blocking the blow with a clang of metal on metal.

“Sif, enough,” Loki whipped his head up to see Fandral, his shield out in front of him, taking Sif’s blow at blank range. He looked down at Loki and smiled. “Are you alright, Young Prince?” Loki nodded and Fandral turned his attention back to the female warrior, face hard. “Sif, you’ve gone to far. I won’t allow you to harm Prince Loki.”

“You know what it is, Fandral,” Sif spat. “Even though it was that witch that showed us, it was proof that its nothing but a disgusting -”

“And it was because it was that witch that I question it,” Fandral cut her off. “Think about it Sif, Amora has always had her own agender. You’ve said so often enough.”

“But -”

“It makes more sense that she would be up to something nefarious than the Young Prince,” he continued to argue. “She has the power, ambition and obsession to do so.”

“But we saw -”

“Enough of this!” Loki, who had been listening in shock to the conversation above him flinched at Thor’s bellow. He turned to see his Brother finally freeing himself from his friends to stalk across the distance, shoving Fandral aside to glare at Sif. “You will not raise your sword to my Brother, Sif. No matter what your reasons, or your thoughts, he is your Prince until proven otherwise.”

Bright blue eyes glanced over his shoulder, pinning Loki in place. Suddenly Loki was scooped up, back onto his feet, big hands running from his shoulders down his torso. “Are you well Brother?”

“Aye, Thor,” the words came out more breathless than he would have liked, but the whole situation had shaken him. Loki had not been expecting Sif’s attack, though now that he thought about it, he should have known, Amora always knew what buttons to press.

“Thor, I was only trying to -”

“Trying to kill a kid, yeah we all saw that.” Loki looked passed his Brother’s wide shoulders to see the three Midgardians that had been with the group. Two females and an older male. It was the short brunet which had spoken, lips upturned in a sneer. The blonde one was watching the whole thing with a look of confused wonder, while the older male seemed weary of the lot of them.

Fandral was still stood at Thor’s side, though he had not lowered his shield and kept a close on eye Sif. The female warrior was scowling, and Loki was sure if Thor was not present, she would turn her weapon on the mouthy Midgardian. Hogan and Volstagg kept to the rear, seeming unsure as of what to do.

“Keep out of this, Midgardian,” Sif growled, though Loki was prevented from seeing what happened next as fingers gripped his chin, lifting his face.

“Are you well Brother?” Thor asked, face awash with concern. Loki opened his mouth to reply in the positive but stopped himself as his mind asserted itself.

“No Brother, I’m not. Erling is going to kill you.” Thor blinked.

“What?”

“Erling Brother,” Loki said earnestly, batting Thor’s hand away. “He’s staged a coup with Amora. He tried to kill Father and Mother by letting Frost Giants back into the Palace. She was the one that managed to get them into the Vault. But it failed, now they’re coming after you.”

Thor stared open mouth, gaping like a fish. Fandral was watching the pair, eyes narrowed.

“Erling?” he asked. “The Council of Nine Spokesman.”

“Ah,” Loki nodded. “I don’t know all the details, but him and Amora are working together. She wants to marry you Brother.”

“Amora, marry Thor?” Volstagg questioned, frowning. “The All-Father would never -”

“Which is probably why she would conspire with Erling,” Fandral said thoughtfully. “If he promised her what she wanted -”

“She’d be sure to go along with it,” Hogan added.

“Erm … whose Amora?” the blonde Midgardian asked, stepping closer hesitantly. “And why is this kid …?”

“Erling would never betray the All-Father,” Sif snapped. “He’s been a trusted member of the Council since the Thousand Year War. Why would he …”

“It doesn’t matter why,” Loki cut through her words. “I know what happened on Asgard, I was there, while you were tricked by Amora to get you out of the way.” Loki wasn’t going to admit that he was truly a Jotun, that would only cause more arguments and Loki knew they didn’t have the time. “He had the Jotun King attack Father and Mother, then killed him when he failed.”

“The King of the Jotun’s is dead?” Volstagg exclaimed, but most ignored him. Loki gripped his Brother’s hand, directing his attention so that he could look him in the eyes.

“He’s going to kill you Brother, just like he tried to kill me. Please, believe me.”

Thor stared at him, face unreadable. Loki had never seen such an expression from usually boisterous Brother. Thor wore his emotions on his sleeve, making him easy to read. Had his Brother truly changed so much in such a short time

Suddenly a hand was on his head, Loki winced, ready for anything, but it only ruffled his hair.

“Of course, I do Brother,” Thor said softly. Loki’s eyes widened, relief surging through him.

“You do?”

“Aye,” a determined look entered Thor’s eyes and Loki could see the fierce warrior, even with the mortal weakness he was cursed with. “But what we should do, I am not sure of.”

“We -” Loki’s words were swallowed up by a roar.

“What the -?”

“In all the Nine.”

“What could be -?”

“Is that an Einstein Rosen Bridge?”

“Thor, look.”

Thor turned to look up at the sky, Loki did the same. Churning a few miles away, out in the desert where Loki had first arrived. The clouds in the sky were twisting, rolling together in a mass as though a storm was brewing. A roar, much like thunder followed, rumbling through the hot, dry air around them, echoing out over the desert. Loki gasped, all too familiar with the sounds.

“Oh no, he can’t have, only Heimdall -”

A beam of light shot down, cracking like lightening to strike somewhere the group could not see, filling the air with the smell of ozone, then all fell silent. Loki shivered, moving closer to Thor, gripping the think blue fabric he was garbed in.

“Brother,” he whispered, grateful when a large hand came to rest on his neck protectively. Panic still started to well in his chest, he thought he would have more time, that they could plan and possibly find a way for Thor to gain his powers back. But it was too late, all too late. The Bifrost had touched down.       


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own Thor or the Avengers or any other of the many Marvel properties

** 7 **

Thor could not believe that all this was happening. After he had not be able to lift Mjolnir he had fallen into despair. It appeared his Father was intent to leave him, alone and adrift on Midgard, possibly never to see the Golden Halls of Asgard once again.

However, he had found solace. The Lady Jane was a beautiful Midgardian, with a mind that reminded him of his little Brother. So curious and questioning. He knew it had been wrong to tell her, it was forbidden by the All-Father after all, but he could not help himself. In the peace of the night he had spoken to her of Yggdrasil, telling her of the Nine Realms and his place among them. She had listened with rapt attention, noting down all he said in wide eyed wonder. Thor at that moment found her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. And he had seen many a woman across the Nine.

But just when he was starting to accept his fate, that was when things had turned so confusing. The Warriors Three and Sif had come to him, telling him tales of his Father, Asgard and betrayal. He was overwhelmed, but not more so than when his Brother had appeared. His sweet, mischievous little Brother, whose clothes looked like they belong to a peasant, tired and draw looking, but appearing so happy to see him.

But then things had spiralled. Sif had attacked him. Sif, his companion, his friend of many years, had pointed her sword at his Brother, was going to kill his Brother, and for what? Because she believed he was Jotun? Thor had been stunned by his own unconcern as to whether that was true or not. What did it matter whether his Brother was Jotun or not, Loki had done nothing to deserve such treatment? He was innocent.

And didn’t that throw his own actions against the Jotun’s into a whole new light. He had stared at Sif’s face, the disgust and loathing clear for all to see. Had he looked like that, when he had gone to Jotunheim? A being that looked more feral than sane. However, he had not the time to fully assess these thoughts as Sif raised her sword for a killing blow. Thor could do nothing but yell, struggling against his friends hold. He would be forever grateful to Fandral, placing himself before his helpless Brother, taking the blow.

It was after that, that things had truly come to light. Erling had tried to kill his Father, his Mother even his Brother. Amora was a willing accomplice, for the sole reason for wanting to marry him and become Queen of Asgard. But despite her wants Erling was going to kill Thor, intent on destroying the Royal family, for what purpose, Thor did not know.

But before they could come up with any plan the Bifrost had struck down, bringing what to Midgard, Thor had no idea. He, Loki, the Warriors, Sif and the Midgardian’s could only stare out into the distance as the sky returned to a cool blue colour, the storm vanishing as quickly as it had come.

Small fingers gripped his hand, squeezing tightly. “Thor?” he glanced down, Loki was pressed close to his side, eyes wide. He looks so young, Thor thought, he shouldn’t have to be put through this. “Do you think -?”

“Aye, it is most likely something sent by Erling,” Thor answered.

“How long has it been since you left Asgard, Young Prince?” Fandral asked. “We did not see the Bifrost activate earlier.”

“I didn’t come through the Bifrost,” Loki answered, causing Thor to raise an eyebrow. “Amora froze Heimdall.”

“Froze!” Volstagg exclaimed.

“Ah, she was hunting for me, but …” he worried his lip a moment before continuing. “I managed to teleport away and use a hidden path to Midgard.” The Warriors gaped, and Sif looked disbelieving. Thor didn’t completely believe the words either, the Crown Prince had heard some of what his Brother’s tutors called Loki. A Silvertongue, a liar, a wordsmith. But in that moment, with the way he hesitated, glancing away to bite at his lip, Thor knew his Brother was not telling him everything. “It could only have been a few hours since I left.”

“Erling acts fast then,” Thor said.

“Thor,” the tentative call of his name had him turning to the Midgardian’s. They had remained mostly out of the affairs the Asgardians had spoken of, whether that be from bafflement or politeness Thor did not know. But now Jane had stepped forward, worry and a little fear in her eyes. “What is going on?” she asked. “Is someone really coming to kill -” the rest of her words were swallowed up by an explosion. It was quickly followed by the smattering of gunfire, drawing people from the buildings to stare into the distance where the firefight was taking place. They started screaming, running in any direction that wasn’t closer to the danger. Thor felt Loki tense against his side, flinching as another explosion rocked through the air.

“You must leave this town now,” Thor said instead of answering the question. “Get yourself and your friends to safety.”

“What about you?” Thor smiled grimly.

“I must stay and fight.”

That brought protests from both the Warrior’, Sif and the Midgardians, though it was Loki who kicked him in the shin, making him wince.

“How in the Nine Realms are you supposed to fight, Thor?” Loki hissed like an angry feline. “If you’ve forgotten, your mortal and whatever Erling has sent is here to kill you. You can't fight!” By the end Loki was almost in tears, fists clenched in frustration and fear. Thor sighed, reaching down to run a comforting hand through his Brother’s dark hair.

“I’m still a warrior,” he said, turning to the Warriors and Sif before Loki could protest more, eyes steely with determination. “And I will fight by your side.”

“The Young Prince is right, you’re but a mortal now,” Volstagg argued. “You’ll get yourself killed!”

“Or one of us trying to protect you,” Fandral pointed out.

“The best thing you can do is get the mortals to safety,” Thor scowled at Sif, not ready to forgive her with what she had tried to do to his Brother.

“She’s right, Thor,” the Crown Prince blinked in surprise as he gazed at Loki. He and Sif never got along even before all this, it was shocking he would side with her, after what she had done. “Mortal or not, you are the Crown Prince, you cannot afford to be killed, or Erling will have won. Leave the battle to them.”

Thor wanted to argue, to laugh and declare that he was more than able to fight by their side. But his time on Midgard had done its job, he knew that he was no match for whatever or whoever Erling had sent. In fact, he would more than likely be in the way of his friends, leading to easy deaths which could have been avoided.

Smiling sadly, Thor reached down, tugging on his Brother’s dark hair. “You are always the smart one.” Loki didn’t even comment, letting Thor turn his attention back to the Warrior’s Three and Sif. “You’re right,” Sif blinked, mouth opening in shock, a look that was echoed by the others. Thor had to grimace, he really must have been reckless if they stared at him in such a way. He switched his blue gaze to Jane, Darcy and Selvig, “help us clear the streets. I’ll let none of these people die this day.” Reaching out, Thor gripped his Loki’s shoulder, pulling him close. “Stick close to me, Brother.”

“You know, I could go and fight.” Thor hissed at his Brother’s words, grip tightening.

“Not in all the Nine are you to do such a thing,” Thor growled, yanking his little Brother after him as they headed over to the crowd, herding them with shouts and waving arms, off of the streets and out of town.

Thor couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder though, Sif and the Warriors were rapidly disappearing towards where the still heavy sounds of fighting were coming from. “Thor?” the quiet inquiry of Loki had him shaking his head. Biting his lip, Thor forced himself to hold onto his Brother tighter, pulling him away from danger that could destroy the House of Odin.

Pushing Loki ahead, Thor ordered him to check the buildings, making sure that all the Midgardian’s were out. Thor continued to shout at those still milling in the street, directing them away from where the threat was sure to come.

The pair had just finished with their third building when a dog bolted down the street, out of the arms of a distraught young female that, while screaming after it was being bundled into the metal contraption that Jane had told Thor was a car, to do anything about it. Thor followed it, thinking maybe he could catch it, but as he tracked it something appeared down the end of the street, something that was not of Midgard.

“By the Norns,” Thor whispered, but it was enough to draw Loki’s attention from scanning the other end of the street.

“Thor, what -?” but his Brother’s words lodged in his throat, choking off as he saw it. Thor was having a hard time not gaping. It surely shouldn’t have been possible for Erling to have brought it here, only the King could make such an order.

“The Destroyer,” Loki gasped, unable to tear his eyes away from the slowly approaching metal construct. A glowing hole where a face should have been, ready to spit out deadly hot bolts that could kill even an Asgardian.

“H…how?” Thor stammered. “How could Erling have possibly summoned it here?”

“He is the Speaker of the Council of Nine,” Loki said, and Thor couldn’t help but think he sounded incredibly young. “He would have been able to take emergency powers of Asgard, with the All-Father and Mother not available and no heirs.” Thor didn’t even bother to question how Loki knew that, but it did throw other things into harsh perspective. It was easy sometimes for Thor to forget how young his Brother was, not even a millennium old and he was smarter than Thor. He shouldn’t have to be dealing with things like this, he thought, determination surging through him, though what good it would do him it had little idea.

The red whole on the head of the Destroyer suddenly began to glow, then a bolt jetted from it, striking one of the buildings, exploding it with a shower of metal, wood and stone. Thor stepped back, shieling Loki as much as he was able from the blast. Sif and the Warrior’s Three were already gathering around the Destroyer, weapons out and ready to attack. For a moment Thor was tempted to run over to them, to fight by their side. A small hand grabbed him.

“Come on, Thor,” Loki urged, pulling a little. “We need to make sure all the Midgardian’s have escaped.”

“Aye, Brother,” Thor agreed, allowing himself to be tugged away and to where Jane, Darcy and Selvig were waiting anxiously, though Thor was sure they were having a hard time not gaping at the Destroyer.

“We must leave here,” Thor said, gathering their attention. “My friends fight bravely, but they won’t be able to hold it back for long.”

“Right, so that means, we should get the hell out of dodge,” Darcy muttered, already moving. Selvig followed her, but Jane came up to stand by Thor, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“They’ll be alright,” she said.

“Aye,” Thor grunted, but he was stopped from saying anything more, when Loki suddenly yanked on his hand.

“Come on Thor,” he said, and Thor had little choice but to do as he bid, his mortal body not able to put up a fight with Loki’s Asgardian strength. He had not even realised that they had left Jane behind until she caught up with them.

“Who are you, by the way?” she glanced at Loki, who looked down his nose at her.

“I’m Loki, Prince of Asgard and Thor’s Brother,” he answered, and Thor was sure he heard a sneer in his tone as he looked Jane over. “Who are you, Midgardian?” Before Jane could answer though, another explosion erupted in front of them, blocking them from escape in that direction. The five of them pulled up short, Darcy stumbling even as Selvig reached out a hand to help.

Thor looked behind, only to gasp as he saw his friends, the fierce Sif and the mighty Warrior’s Three beaten and unconscious upon the ground. The Destroyer looming over them, but its fiery gaze directed their way. Another glow lit up and Thor couldn’t even brace himself as another blast was sent their way, striking a store front beside them. Thor couldn’t hold it, his Midgardian form not strong enough to plant himself. He was thrown off his feet, several yards away. He heard Loki’s shout, but as he landed the world whited out for a moment. Groaning, he pushed himself to his feet, seeing Jane beside him, he helped her to stand, giving her a once over for injuries.

“Thor?” Loki called. The Young Prince had not been thrown, his sturdier body able to take more of the impact, but he’d had to duck low, covering his head with his hands. Thor lifted a fist, but a sharp cry cut through the air.

“Erik!” Thor spun to see Jane already running towards the store front, where Darcy was knelt beside a prone Selvig. Blood poured from where a steal pipe had embedded itself in his side, luckily he seemed to be conscious, though barely.

Thor rushed over, stood over as the two female Midgardian’s fussed over their friend. Selvig was trying to wave them off.

“Leave me,” he mumbled, but it was useless as Darcy continued to try and stem the bleeding, tears running down her face.

“Move!” Thor was surprised to see Loki, pushing his way through the Midgardian’s, shoving Darcy aside to grab a hold of the pipe. With ease he pulled it from Selvig’s body, much to the horror of Jane and Darcy.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Darcy shouted, even as Loki tossed the pipe aside, ignoring her.

“Brother …” Thor started, but stopped himself as Loki placed his hands over the now gushing wound, after a moment they glowed a soft green.

“What are you doing? He needs bandaging! You can’t -”

“Be calm, Lady Jane,” Thor tried to ease her. “My brother is proficient at Seidr, he is healing Selvig’s wound. See?” Jane turned a tear streaked face to him, before looking back at Loki, where indeed the wound was healing. A few more seconds went by, Loki’s brow was furrowed and sweat beaded on his head, but the wound finally closed and Selvig sat up with a gasp.

“What the -?” he started, hand feeling at his flesh.

“D…don’t push yourself,” Loki gasped out as he sagged back to recover. “My Seidr could only heal so much, you’ll still be tender.”

“How did you -?” Selvig began to ask, but Thor was already pulling his Brother up, looking him over seriously.

“How much Seidr did that take?” Loki blinked in confusion but answered honestly.

“A little, it was mainly concentration that -”

“Good, keep close to me.” Gripping Loki tightly, Thor ducked low and started to run. He headed out towards where the Destroyer was making its leisurely way closer, using the debris and broken buildings as cover. Loki didn’t protest, allowing himself to be shoved lower when that red gaze searched for them, but Thor could feel him lagging behind. Healing was a Seidr art that required power, control and concentration, he knew as such from the many times he’d ended up in Eir’s care. That Loki was able to perform such Seidr, at this time and for his age, was remarkable.

Fortunately, they did not have to get to close to the Destroyer. A blast must have thrown Sif and the Warrior’s Three quiet a way, though they were scattered about like discarded toys.  Thor paused behind a metal contraption, pulling Loki close to look him in the face.

“Listen, Loki, you must help the Warrior’s, heal them if they are injured. I will help Sif, then you must run.”

“But -” Loki started to protest but Thor would have none of that.

“No, do as I say, Brother. You must get the Warrior’s to safety, they will die if they remain here.”

Green eyes stared at him unblinking, Thor swallowed under the gaze. He had never realised it before, but his Brother had such intense eyes, but Thor could not allow himself to be moved, he glared right back until Loki reluctantly nodded.

“Fine, we will retreat for now, none of us can hope to stop the Destroyer.” Thor bit his lip, saying nothing. He crouched low, keeping watch, giving the signal for Loki to run, then making his way over to Sif’s battered and bloodied body.

Gripping her by the shoulders, Thor dragged her under cover, he was surprised to find her conscious, though her eyes were glazed.

“Thor?” Sif slurred.

“Aye, can you sit up?”

“Ah,” Sif winced as she pushed herself up, Thor could see a bruise welling up on her face and he was sure she would have some cracked ribs. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Thor didn’t answer, instead glancing over to Loki. He was knelt by Volstagg, hands glowing green. Fandral and Hogan were stirring. Good, Thor thought with a grim smile.

“You need to go,” Thor said to Sif, who gaped at him.

“Are you crazy!” she hissed, ducking as another blast was sent their way. “We can’t let that thing just continue to wander. It will destroy everything in it’s path until it’s completed its mission.”

“I know,” Thor muttered.

“Thor,” Sif growled. “You’re not going to do anything -”

“Sif,” Thor cut her off before she could speak more, face hard and tone serious. “You need to leave. Take the others and Loki. Get him out with the Midgardian’s.”

“But -”

“Sif, this is an order from your Crown Prince,” Thor snarled. “Make sure my Brother lives. Ensure that he is returned to Asgard and my parents. Will you do that?”

Sif stared at him wide eyed, her own gaze tracked to where Fandral and Hogan had managed to get to their knees, while Loki continued to try and heal Volstagg. Her lips curled in distaste and Thor hoped he would not have to order her again, but thankfully she nodded.

“I hope you have a plan,” she said, standing on shaky legs. Thor grinned.

“Don’t I always?” Sif huffed, pushing up on shaking legs. As she stumbled, Thor reached out a hand to grip her elbow. “Sif,” the female turned to him. “Do not think everything is forgiven.” Sif opened her mouth, as though to argue, but she snapped it shut after a moment under Thor’s unmoving stare. With a nervous swallow she nodded, and Thor felt his fingers squeeze tighter around the limb he grasped. Sif would have to answer for her actions. Striking to kill a Prince of Asgard was something even Thor would not let go.

Once steady, Thor released Sif, allowing her to break cover to help the Warrior’s Three and Loki. Thor watched her go, trying not to let his gaze linger on Loki. He hoped his Brother would forgive him, but this was something that he had to do. For everyone to make it out alive, Thor had to do this.

Taking a deep breath, Thor stepped out, chest puffed and shoulders back, he strode down the street and towards the Destroyer.

“Erling!” he called, he wasn’t sure if the Councillor would be able to hear him through the Destroyer, if he was sat upon Hlidskjalf than he should be able to remotely control the thing. Which just made the actions taken all the worse. “I do not know your reasons, nor do I want to. You are a traitor to your King, to your Realm and people and for that you will surely be judged by the Norns.” He came closer, the Destroy, now still, as though watching him. “But your fight is not with the Midgardian’s, nor is it with my Brother, he is just a child. Take my life and know that the Crown Prince will never return to Asgard.”

He was right before the Destroyer, staring up into the deep red depths that simply looked back at him.

“Thor!” the shout came from behind him and Thor had to close his eyes and clench his fists to stop himself from answering. He’d prayed Loki would not notice until it was all over, that Sif and the Warrior’s would have him safely away so he wouldn’t have to see. “Thor!”

“No, Young Prince!”

“But Fandral -!”

“It’s too dangerous!”

“But, it’s Thor. He can’t just -! Let go of me!”

“Thank you, Fandral,” Thor mumbled. He extends his arms wide, exposing himself before the Destroyer, awaiting whatever it would do. He didn’t have to wait long. In one swift movement the Destroyer lifted a metal arm and swatted it at Thor. The hit hurt unlike anything Thor had felt before. The Midgardian body unable to take the blow. He was sure something was broken, and a pain welled in his chest. He was sent flying, it felt like forever, until he came crashing down. Shouts and screams echoed around him. He couldn’t move, not even a finger. He thought he felt a shadow fall over him before the world went black.

***

Loki went limp in Fandral’s grip as he could only watch Thor be sent flying over their heads, to land with a sickening crunch before one of the buildings.

“No!” the scream barely registered with the Young Prince. Nor did it effect the Midgardian woman, who was fighting with her companion to reach the broken form of Thor. No, all Loki could do was stare at his Brother. His Brother that was surely dead due to his Midgardian body.

“Thor?” it came out a whisper. “Thor? Get up.” Thor didn’t move. “Come on, get up. Don’t just lie there Thor. You need to get up. Get up now! Thor!”

“Prince Loki,” Fandral said, wrapping his arms more securely around the child. “It’s no use. He’s -”

“No, no you’re wrong. Thor! Thor!”

A sudden crack of lightening filled the sky, swallowing up Loki’s words. Jerking his gaze upwards Loki gaped as clouds rolled, coming together in a mass. A powerful wind streamed through, and Loki had to hold in a gasp as Seidr whipped around them all. Old and terrifying, but familiar that Loki found comfort in it.

“What the -?”

“What’s happening?”

“Thor!”

Loki redirected his attention, his Brother still lay where he had fallen, unmoving. Suddenly another crash of thunder rumbled overhead, it was followed by lightening that ripped down from the sky, striking the body with ferocious force.

“Thor!” one of the Midgardian’s shouted. Loki could say nothing, tears drying on his cheeks. A shadow had appeared in the lightening, one he knew far too well.

“Mjolnir?” he whispered. Fandral switched his slack jawed look to him, but he didn’t need to explain further as lightening struck again, followed by a flash of light and Seidr. Then, where Thor’s broken body had been was the majestic sight of Thor, the God of Thunder and the Crown Prince of Asgard. His red cape whipped out behind him, his armour gleaming in the setting sun, his hammer held high in his hand.

“Thor!” Loki yelled in delight, which only increased when his Brother glanced back at him, smiling softly.

However, the moment couldn’t last, the Destroyer, which had stilled at the last attack on Thor jerked into action. Blasting a red beam at Thor, who expertly dodged it, before charging, Mjolnir aloft.

“H…How?” Sif stuttered, eyes locked on the fight, which was rapidly becoming one sided.

“Whomever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor,” Loki mumbled, eyes shining as he watched Thor take down the Destroyer with a blast of lightening. “He is worthy once again.”

“Thank the Norns,” Volstagg sighed, running a hand through his beard as he watched the display. “Things were starting to get a little -” the rest of his words were swallowed by a cry of pain. Startled, Loki twisted in Fandral’s grip, only to be faced with Amora, Seidr at her finger tips.

“Yes, how delightful that my beloved has regained his powers. Though he could have waited until we had dealt with the annoyances. The stage isn’t set for him yet.”

“Amora!” Hogan shouted, who was quickly joined by Sif, who had her sword drawn. Fandral pushed Loki behind him, his shield high as he glared at the Sorceress.

“What do you want here, traitor?” Fandral called, but Amora didn’t even acknowledge him, her madness tinged eyes riveted on Loki.

“You just had to go and find a way to Midgard, didn’t you?” she hissed, and Loki frowned. “Though I am curious what item you used. Not many are brave enough to take to the paths.”

“Amora!” Sif yelled as she jumped forward to attack. It did little though, as the Witch merely flicked her wrist, sending the summoned Seidr spiralling into the female Warrior, catching her in the middle so she was thrown backwards.

“Sif!” Hogan cried, though there was little he could do as more Seidr was sent his way, forcing him to duck and weave, to avoid the brunt of the attack. Fandral took a step back, forcing Loki with him. Volstagg engaged the Seidr user, though with his other injuries he could do little against her. Soon all were upon the ground, and Amora stalked forward. Fandral growled, clutching his sword in one hand and shield in the other.

“You will not come near the Young Prince!” he declared. Amora tilted her head, and smirked.

“Will I not?” she asked, and it was then that Loki felt fingers curling around his neck, yanking him back, away from Fandral.

“Prince Loki!” Fandral turned, though it was to late. Loki was already within the grasp of Amora, the double she had placed before the warrior disappearing. The fingers tightened on Loki’s throat, stopping him from speaking a word. Hair tickled his face, as Amora leaned forward.

“My what a liar you are, Fandral,” she sneered.

The blond warrior scowled, though he hesitated to attack, not wanting to catch Loki in the crossfire. The Young Prince however was having a hard time catching his breath. Amora’s fingers, though dainty, were strong. Her nails dug into his flesh, he could feel his skin breaking under the pressure. And the constriction on his wind pipe was hard to breath around.

“Amora!” the bellow seemed to shake the sky, much like how the ground shivered as Thor landed with a crash before them all. Eyes wild and hair a mess, he glowered at the Witch, who straightened at his arrival. “Let my Brother go.”

“Oh Thor, it is so good to see you,” she simpered, battering her eyes at him coyly. “Thank the Norns Odin’s curse was breakable, though did you have to put yourself in danger for these fools.”

“Enough Amora,” Thor growled, swinging Mjolnir so that the hammer was pointed at the pair of them. “Release my Brother now, and I will not strike you down.”

“You just don’t understand Thor,” Amora said, pulling Loki closer, who had started to struggle. “We did all of this for you. Erling and I, we only want what’s best for Asgard.”

“The best?” Thor asked, voice cold and low. “You truly think this is for the best? Look around you! You have brought destruction to an innocent Realm, attacked my Father, your King and my Mother and Brother. And for what? To see me sit on the Throne?” Thor shook his head. “I would have made a poor King if I allowed others to use me as a puppet.”

“That’s not how it was meant to be,” Amora protested, shaking Loki in her grip. “If he had just died none of this would be happening! We would be married, ruling the Nine Realms together.”

“Never,” Thor hissed, startling Amora with his intensity. “No matter what you had done to me, I would have never married you. This is over Amora.”

The Witch looked as though she had been slapped. She stared at Thor, eyes glistening. Loki jumped as he felt something hot and wet land on his cheek.

“Is that so?” she said, head down and voice shaking. “Then I guess you won’t mind what I do now.” The fingers on Loki’s neck dug in even further, finally drawing blood and a cry from him.

“Brother!” Thor shouted in concern, but before he could move, Amora was already one step ahead.

“You’ll regret this Thor. I swear you will. Say goodbye to your Little Brother as the next time you see him, he’ll be nothing but a corpse!”

Suddenly Loki was being pulled and he was engulfed as though he was in water. For a moment it was as though he was drowning, he couldn’t get air into his lungs and his vision swam. A wash of cool breeze suddenly came over him, freezing the heat that had prickled his skin. He gasped, though it was difficult with Amora’s fingers still wrapped around his neck. They squeezed before Loki was spun and thrown to the floor. It cracked against his back and he cried out in surprise and pain as it was followed up with a Seidr blast.

Gasping, Loki managed to force his way to his feet. He was on the Rainbow Bridge, tossed to the edge that if he had slid one foot further, he would have been falling through the Void. Amora loomed over him, Seidr whipping around her in a frenzy.

“Satisfied Amora?” Loki asked, voice rough from the choking. “Your dreams will never come to pass. Thor will never accept you. You will never have what you crave.” Seidr suddenly snaked around Loki, wrapping around his arms and chest, before finally curling around his throat. He was lifted completely from the ground, levitated over the bridge so all he could do was squirm.

“Yo…you brat,” she hissed, stalking closer, face a mask of rage. “This is all your fault. If you had just died like you were supposed to Thor would have never discovered anything! Why couldn’t you have just died?!” Loki flinched as she summoned more Seidr. This is it, he thought, she’s going to kill me. I’m going to die.

He closed his eyes and prayed hoping the Norns would make it painless. A sharp shriek, followed by a thud startled him, more so because it didn’t come from himself. Opening his eyes, he didn’t know whether to be relieved or appalled. Erling was stood behind Amora, Gungnir tight in his grip, though the spear was thrust through Amora’s stomach, where blood dripped onto the swirling colours of the Rainbow Bridge.

Amora jerkily looked over her shoulder, gasping as she saw Erling who smiled at her.

“Er…Erling?” she stuttered, though it choked off as blood erupted from her mouth.

“Thank you, Amora, for returning the Young Prince. I think I will be in need of a hostage soon.” With a yank he pulled Gungnir free, leaving Amora to fall to the floor, barely conscious. However, now that the Witch was injured, she was unable to keep a hold on her Seidr. It disappeared from around Loki unceremoniously dropping him to the ground. A shoulder cracked against the stone, a snapping sound following. Cringing, Loki curled in on himself, trying to rally under the pain his body was under. If only he had enough Seidr to recover.

A large hand gripped his hair, yanking him upright so he was face to face with Erling.

“Now Young Prince, I’m so glad you were found, it makes things much easier.” With a harsh yank he pulled Loki around and started walking back to the Palace.

“What are you going to do Erling?” Loki hissed, clawing his fingers at the hand that gripped his hair. “Thor has his powers returned. You’ve lost.”

“Have I?” Erling sneered at him. “I still have you though. The Child Prince, Odin’s youngest child by heart. I may not be able to kill him or the Queen right now, but if they want you to live, they will do as I say.” Loki struggled, uncaring that he was pulling his own hair out, he needed to get away from Erling, he couldn’t let the Councillor use him.

Then a churning sound came from behind them. It was followed by a bright flare of the Seidr of the Rainbow Bridge as it flowed down towards the Observatory. Erling spun around, Loki with him, so the Young Prince was able to see the Bifrost blast out into the dark Void.   

“That damn Gatekeeper,” Erling muttered. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted his fate to that woman.”

The Bifrost continued for a moment more, before it vanished. But something much better too it’s place. Stood in the shadow of the Observatory, hammer aloft, Thor cried as he caught sight of the pair of them.

“Erling!”

The Councillor growled, turning swiftly, he ignored the threat of Thor to drag Loki closer. Letting his hair free briefly, Loki didn’t have time to run before a think arm was looped around his neck, keeping him firmly in place, pulling him back against a strong chest.

“Stop Thor, unless you truly want your Brother to die this day.”

Thor did stop, feet away from the pair. Blue eyes flicked over his Brother, trying to catch if he had any injuries. Loki shook his head briefly, so the eyes moved on to take in Amora still bleeding on the Bridge, to Erling who held Gungnir, the tip close to Loki’s eye.

“Stop this madness Erling,” Thor said. “It is over, you have lost.”

Erling chuckled and Loki thought it sounded deranged. “As I just told the Young Prince, it is far from over.” He clutched Loki tighter, using him as a shield. “As long as I have leverage, you will do as I say.”

“And what is it you want?” Thor asked, eyes narrowed. “What more could you possibly want that you didn’t already have.”

“I had such hopes for you Thor,” Erling shook his head sadly. “We all want more than we have. It is a fact of nature, people cannot be merely content. As for what I wanted, I simply wanted to advance Asgard to become the ultimate power of the Nine, just as we had done in the past.” He sneered suddenly as he glanced behind him at the Palace. “Odin had become soft. Content to let the Nine Realms have their peace. Fool,” he spat the word like poison. “The Nine Realms exist because of Asgard. We are the protectors, the Warriors and what are they? Ants that should be crushed beneath our boots, who should revere us as the Gods we are.”

“You’re mad,” Thor whispered, but Erling laughed.

“Most visionaries are,” he gave the Crown Prince a sad look. “I had hoped you would be the one to usher in this era. Your thirst for war was something I had prayed to harness. And with Amora at your side, I would have been in the perfect place to direct you to further Asgard’s glory. But now,” his gaze turned to Loki, who shivered under the dark stare. “It appears I will have to take the reins myself. Perhaps it is due time that Asgard had a new Royal Family.”

Erling shifted, Gungnir pulling back, ready to strike. Thor shouted, already starting a run that would be to late to save Loki from the spear. The Young Prince closed his eyes, not wanting to see the anguished face of his Brother as he was finally killed, his luck running out.

The gasp that shattered the scene did not come from Loki though, nor did the blood that started to stain the clothes he wore. In fact, the Young Prince didn’t have a scratch on him, though the same couldn’t be said for Erling.

“A…A…?” Loki blinked open his eyes, seeing Thor, stood frozen on the Bridge, but he wasn’t looking at Loki, instead over his shoulder. The Prince followed his gaze. Erling was gasping, blood spitting out of his mouth, eyes wide. But behind him was a familiar figure, one that had shoved a sword right through Erling’s chest, bypassing Loki by inches. One that should not be there.

“Alviss?” Loki whispered, gaping openly as the old Steward smiled at him from behind the traitorous Councillor.

“Prince Loki, Prince Thor, I’m glad I made it in time,” the Steward simply said.

That seemed to breath some life back into Erling. He snarled, pulling Loki closer, as though he was about to impale the Prince on the sword along with him. But his move was cut short as Alviss pushed the blade in further, eliciting a cry of pain from the Councillor.

“I think not, Councillor Erling,” Alviss spoke in his usual polite tone, even as he continued to skewer him on his weapon. “Let the Prince go, and you might live to face the judgement of the All-Father.”

Erling said nothing, Loki was unsure whether he was conscious or not, but he could still feel his breath on his cheek. Alviss frowned.

“Councillor -” Alviss was suddenly stopped short, mouth open wide as though he had been surprised by something.

“Alviss!” Thor called, while Loki gaped in horror.

“S…so sorry,” the strident tones of Amora came from behind the two men. Loki couldn’t see, but if he could, he would not have missed the knife now sticking out of Alviss’s back, held tight by the Witch. “But none of us will be seeing the All-Father this day. Or ever.” With a blast of Seidr, the Rainbow Bridge suddenly lurched beneath them all. Loki could only watch in horror as Amora’s Seidr attacked the Bridge, creating cracks that glowed until they finally shattered under the onslaught. Once broken the Seidr of the Bridge was released, blasting out with ferocious power. Loki was helpless in its grasp, along with Erling, Alviss, and Amora who were thrown. Loki slid across the broken Bridge, still caught in Erling’s grip. They went further and further, until finally Loki could feel nothing beneath him.

I’m falling, Loki thought as the Bridge slipped from under him. I’m going to fall into the Void. On instinct he reached out a hand, whether to try and grasp at the rim of the Bridge or simply wave goodbye, he didn’t know. He was to stunned to think clearly.

“Loki!” the desperate howl came from above, followed swiftly by a hand catching his. His motion was jerked to a halt, though he had to cry out in pain as his arm was pulled from its socket, not helped by the weight that gripped his legs. “Brother! You Bastard, let go!”

Loki looked up, Thor was hanging over the Bridge, holding on with one staining hand, while the other gripped his. Glancing behind he saw that Erling, Gungnir gone from his hands, lost from the explosion of the Rainbow Bridge, was clutching at his legs, Alviss hanging on to him, who had Amora gripping his shoulders screaming.

“Just let go Thor, we can all die together. We’ll be together in death.”

“Brother, it hurts,” Loki whimpered, tears prickling his eyes as he looked to his Brother.”

“Hold on Loki,” Thor said, though it appeared he was struggling with the whole combined weight. “I’ll pull you up.”

Loki nodded, but he suddenly shrieked as the grip on his legs tightened.

“Y…yes, please do Thor,” Erling hissed, eyes staring at the two Princes in hunger. “Pull us up.” Loki shivered, the madness in those eyes could not be allowed to step one foot back into Asgard. But if Thor pulled him up, how were they supposed to stop it?

“Thor, you have to let go,” Loki found himself saying, even as fear gripped his heart at the thought.

“What? No, you’ll fall if I -”

“You can’t pull him up!” Loki shouted, fear and terror making the tears running down his face worse. “You can’t. He’ll kill you, Mother, Father. You have to let us fall!”

“Never!” Thor cried. “Never Loki. I can -” the grip on Loki’s hand slipped, and Loki screamed as he dipped further from the Bridge. “Brother!” Thor grunted.

“Thor, I’m scared,” Loki whimpered. Thor stared at him, face awash with concern, worry and horror.

“Loki, I -”

“Everything will be alright, Young Prince,” Loki startled as Alviss spoke behind him. He looked back to see the Steward smiling at him, aged face content as he looked up at his Prince’s. “You will be safe. You’ll see.”

In a swift move, Alviss gripped Erling, pulling his sword with a hard yank.

“Bastard!” Erling shouted, rage overcoming his injuries. “Careful or we’ll all -”

No one ever heard the rest of Erling’s words, it was impossible to, as Alviss swung his blade, lopping off his head cleanly. The rest happened so fast, Loki would later compare it to that of a dream. Erling’s now dead body released it’s grip on Loki, slipping away from him, taking Alviss and Amora down, down, down and into dark Void, gone from the sight of the two Prince’s left on the Bridge.

“Alviss!” Loki shrieked, unable to tear his gaze from where the Steward had disappeared with the two traitors. “Alviss! Alviss!”

“Loki! Thor!”

“Father!” Loki looked up at the cry, in time to see Odin appear of the edge of the Bridge, hands grabbing Thor’s.

“F…Father?!” Loki gasped, but Odin didn’t answer him, gripping on to Thor tightly he pulled with strength that belayed his condition. Thor was dragged up onto the Bridge, soon followed by Loki. They both lay there, gasping from breath, tears running down their cheeks. Loki finally managed to lift his head. Taking in Thor and Odin, who had joined them collapsed on the Bridge.

“F…Father? Thor?”

“Brother!” Thor sobbed, grabbing a hold of the child Prince and pulling him into a bone crunching hug. “Brother, you are safe.”

Those words finally broke Loki, the tears that had already been falling became a stream. Choked sobs welled up in his throat. He gripped Thor tightly as he cried his heart out into his chest. A movement close to him was the only warning he got before another set of arms came to encompass them both. But Loki didn’t flinch, the familiar scent aiding in his relief and the terror that still plagued him.

“Thor, Loki. My sons. Thank for the Norns. My sons,” Odin whispered as he sat, his own cheeks wet as he gripped his children. Uncaring for the chaos surrounding them.

***

The next couple of days were a blur to Loki. He passed out on the Bridge, whether from mental fatigue or exhaustion he didn’t know, but some time later he woke up in the Healing Hall with his Mother beside him.

Frigga had been distraught, her eyes dark and red from where she had clearly been crying. When Loki had awoken, she had thrown herself at her son, wrapping him in her arms and holding him tight.

“Thank the Norns,” she had whispered, placing a kiss to his temple. “Thank the Norns you’re alright.”

Loki had relished in her comfort, crying once again as she held him. His Mother was alive, she was safe. He couldn’t shake one of the last images he’d had of her, laying next to the All-Father, still as death. To have her warmth surrounding him, it was better than any medicine.

She stayed with him in the Healing Hall. Eir had kept him in longer than he would have wished, but he did not lack visitors.

Fandral had come, wanting to see if the Young Prince was well. Himself, the Warriors and Sif had been in the Observatory when the fight with Erling and Amora broke out. Volstagg, Heimdall and Hogan to injured to fight. That left Sif and Fandral and Thor had ordered them to aid the injured, thus why they didn’t appear in the battle.

“I’m sorry, Prince Loki,” Fandral had bowed to him, while Loki was propped up in the bed. “I should have been by Thor’s side. As his companion of many years and a loyal warrior of Asgard. It was my duty to aid the two of you in your hour of need.”

Loki had been quick to forgive the blonde man. He had only done as Thor had commanded, what more could he do? Fandral hadn’t looked as though he believed him but had accepted it.

It was Fandral that had also told him Odin had returned to his throne, announcing to the public the betrayal of Amora and Erling and their plot to kill the Royal Family. The public out cry had been huge, most demanding that the Council of Nine be completely dismissed, and Seidr users such as Amora be banished from Asgard. The last had distressed Loki, but Fandral had assured him that Odin had dismissed both suggestions. The latter had relieved Loki more than the former. As for Sif and the Three, they were to be judged for their actions during the time Odin slept. Sif more so than the others.

“Will he kill her?” Loki had asked. Fandral had merely sighed.

“I am unsure,” he’d admitted. “She raised her blade against a Prince of Asgard, an action that under our laws, is punishable by death. Though it could be argued that she was fooled by Amora. It is anyone guess as to how the All-Father will rule.”

Loki had fallen silent at that explanation, unsure as to whether it pleased him or not. On the one hand, Sif had been intent to kill him. Had believed all that Amora had fed her. It showed what little trust she had in him, and the deep contempt she felt. But on the other, Loki didn’t know if he wished for her to die. After all, it is only the living that get to suffer.

Volstagg had been the only other of his Brother’s companions who had visited. He’d offered his own apologies for not aiding Thor, and for believing the lies Amora had told them of him being a Frost Giant. Loki had to bite his lip when that came up, nodding his head and ending the conversation quickly. He still wasn’t comfortable with the truth of his birth and he had yet to discuss it further with his parents or even tell Thor. Loki was worried how he would take it.

Eventually, Eir deemed him fit to leave. Though happy to be finally be back on his feet, Loki couldn’t help but be sombre. Alviss’s death had been taken badly by the Palace servants. They went about their duties, but with less vigour than they used to, seeming lost in their own thoughts.

The All-Father had declared a public funeral for the Asgardian, to commemorate his sacrifice for the Princes of Asgard and his Realm. The Nobles had put up a protest, but it had been silenced by Thor and Odin.

That was why Loki was stood beside his Mother, out by one of the many lakes that surrounded the capital. Dressed in black ceremonial robes, like many of the public. looking down at the skiff that had the few precious possessions that would aid in Alviss’s soul in finding Valhalla.

Loki watched as the All-Father, still seeming tired even after awakening from the Odinsleep, laid the last of the possessions, a helmet, with two short curling horns crowning it, into the skiff. Stepping back, he took his place beside Thor.

“Alviss Valderson,” Odin began, voice soft, but still able to carry over the crowd. “Asgardian, Warrior and loyal Steward to the House of Odin. He sacrificed his life in order for my sons to live, for that alone, his spirit belongs in the hallowed halls of Valhalla. To feast until the end time and Ragnarök takes the Realms and makes them anew.”

He turned to Thor, he reached out his hand for a torch, held by one of the guards. He took it, stepping up to the skiff, pausing a moment.

“Alviss will be remembered by future generations,” he announced, eyeing the crowd with dignified pride. “Not just the House of Odin, but by all of Asgard. His sacrifice will be remembered.”

“Aye,” the crowd responded, and Thor bowed his head and placed the flickering fire of the torch to the Skiff, where it quickly became alight. More guards swiftly stepped forward, pushing the small boat out into the water. As it left the shore, the fire engulfed the vessel, lighting Alviss’s possessions on fire, burning them as they would have his body.

Loki sniffed, wiping his eyes to try and stem the tears. He couldn’t believe Alviss was gone. Dropped into the Void, body lost. An arm came around his shoulders and Loki startled to find it wasn’t Frigga. He glanced up to see the grim face of his Father, he was staring out, watching the Skiff disappear further from the shore, fire lighting up the darkening sky.

The hand squeezed his shoulder gently. “It is alright to cry, son,” Odin muttered, loud enough for only the two of them to hear. “If any man is worth your tears, it was he that died for you.”

Loki sniffed, the tears leaking out even as he nodded his head. Odin’s arm tightened, pulling Loki into his side. It was the biggest show of affection his Father had given him in public for many years. Loki couldn’t help but bask in it.

The Royal Family remained in place, well after the skiff had disappeared and the public had left. Finally, Frigga cleared her throat and Odin shifted Loki so that he was no longer leaning against him. With a heavy heart, Loki turned from the lake, stepping between his Mother and Father so they could make their way back to the Palace.

“Brother,” Loki glanced back to see Thor, dressed in the dark blacks of morning with an unsure expression coating his face. “May I speak with you?”

“Thor, can this not wait until we return to the Palace?” Frigga asked, a hand coming down to take Loki’s. Thor shook his head.

“Nay, Mother, please we will not be long.” Frigga looked as though she was about to argue further, but Loki intercepted her.

“Of course, Brother,” he said, turning a smile to the disapproving frown his Mother sent his way. “We will not be long, do you not trust us, Mother?” Frigga pursed her lips but did not answer. Instead shooting a look Odin’s way, who raised an eyebrow.

“Very well, but do not linger here long, the feast will begin soon,” she directed the last words at Thor, who nodded his head earnestly, then reached out a hand to Loki. Extracting himself from Frigga, Loki ignored the hand, stepping passed his Brother and down towards the edge of the lake. The Royal Family had been placed on a podium, so that they could be seen over the crowds that crammed the shore line. Now that all were gone, Loki could get as close as he desired, so much so that the gentle waves lapped at his boots.

It wasn’t long until Thor’s presence came up beside him. He felt heat from a hand that went to touch his shoulder, but stopped, hovering there instead, hesitant and unsure.

“I…I spoke with Father,” Loki winced at the stammered sentence, not looking at Thor, fixing his gaze out onto the lake, maybe hoping to still be able to see Alviss’s burning skiff. “He told me everything.”

“Did he?” Loki’s voice was strained, though he managed to hold back the churning fear that made his heart stutter. “So, you know I am a monster?”

“Loki,” Thor sounded so scandalised that it made Loki irrationally angry. Turning blazing green eyes on to the God of Thunder he snarled.

“It’s true. We always called them monsters, creatures fit only to be killed, that ate children and were the villains of every tale.” Tears threatened to fall but Loki beat them back, glaring into the shocked face of Thor, who stared at him open mouthed. “What difference does it make now that you know I am one of them? Nature cannot be changed, no matter how strong the nurturing is. You should have just let me fall when -” Loki was forced to swallow his words when strong arms wrapped around him, crushing him to a muscled chest with unrelenting strength. Loki growled, struggling fruitlessly. “Let go, Thor! I’m not your Brother! I never have been! I’m n -”

“Never, don’t you ever say you are not my Brother,” Thor’s tone was strong, but Loki could detect a hint of a sob beneath. “You have been in my life since the day you were born. We were raised together, played together. I saw your first steps, your first words, you are in everyway my Brother. And nothing, not blood nor species can change that.”

Loki was shocked into silence, unable to believe what Thor was saying. His Brother was known for his hatred of the Frost Giants, he had seen what he had done to them when they went to Jotunheim, seen the venom and disgust. How then could Thor embrace him with such desperation when he knew the truth that hid beneath his fake skin.

“B…but I’m a Frost Giant,” he weakly protested, Thor squeezed tighter.

“And I don’t care. I don’t care Loki. You could be a slug and you would still be my Brother.”

“But you hate Frost Giants,” Loki pushed further. “Everyone does. I can’t change who I am Thor, I can’t make myself Asgardian!”

“And you should never have thought you had to.”

“What?”

Thor sighed, easing Loki back so that he was gripping him by the shoulders, kneeling so he could look into Loki’s green eyes.

“Loki, it is not you that has to change. You were born how you were meant to be, always believe that.”

“Then what should I do? How do I -”

“You do nothing, Brother. It is I that has to change, and the rest of Asgard. It is us who are wrong in our thoughts and opinions, built on rumours and stories and a hate that should have cooled to wisdom by now. All you have to do is be yourself.”

Loki was stunned, he could only gape as Thor smiled at him, eyes full of warmth, understanding and love. It was a combination that Loki had not seen on his Brother’s face for a long time, not since he had received Mjolnir and begun to change.  A weak smile twitched his own lips. “Truly?” he asked, and Thor was quick to nod in confirmation.

“Of course, after all, where would I be without my mischievous Little Brother?”

“More like who would you blame.”

“You said it Brother.”

Loki pouted as Thor laughed, but it didn’t last and before long the two of them were giggling like they were centuries younger. As though they had not a care in the world and had not gone through the heart ache of almost losing their family.

“Oh, there was one other thing I wanted to say to you, Brother,” Thor said as the laughter finally eased.

“What?” Thor grinned, letting go of Loki he reached to his belt. Loki frowned when he brought out a small knife but balked as he drew the blade across his palm, deep enough to draw blood. “Thor!”

“Be at ease Brother,” Thor waved away Loki’s hands that already had Seidr wrapped around his fingers. “I was speaking with Mother, she told me how when you were but a babe that her and Father shared their blood with you. I know I said that blood did not matter, and it still does not, but …” He hesitated, but Loki did not dare to interrupted him. “I wanted to do the same. I want to share my blood so that we can become Brother’s, in every sense of the word.” Loki said nothing, mind still trying to process what Thor had said. Blue eyes blinked, then widened in horror. “Of course, we do not have to if you object, I just wanted to -”

“You fool,” Loki muttered, head low so that his raven locks covered his eyes. “Always such a fool.” Swiftly he snatched the knife from Thor, running it across his own palm so blood welled. He snapped his eyes up, meeting a face that was a mixture of surprise, fear and joy. “But you’re my fool of a Brother, and I would have it no other way.”

Holding out his hand, Thor laughed before he grasped it, mingling the blood on their palms. Loki could swear he felt a trickle of Seidr shiver over his skin, but he didn’t care for it. In that moment, there was only him and Thor, himself and his Brother, confirming that they were indeed family and that, indeed would never change.

***

In the darkness of space something moved.

“Is all ready?”

“Aye Master.”

“And your purpose?”

Blue eyes looked up beneath golden locks, eyes intent upon the imposing figure before them.

“Why, it is glorious.”

To Be Continued

      

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys! So it's over, this story is complete! I hope you enjoyed it, as I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Thanks as always to everyone who has read, left kudos, bookmarked and commented. Please continue to do so as any appreciation for this story is apricated. But for now, have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and follow me in the sequel to this story.
> 
> Coming in 2019
> 
> Loki, the Accidental Invader of Midgard
> 
> Cheers! D.S x
> 
> P.S And edited! Once again I am not a supercomputer and spell check is not infallible, so if you spot anything let me know. And worry not, the sequel is coming!


End file.
